


Raised by Wolves

by orphicsheep



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle Couple, Blue Lions Route, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Sweethearts, Coming Out, Dead Brother Club, Falling In Love, Family Drama, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Garreg Mach Monastery (Fire Emblem), Goddess Tower (Fire Emblem), Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Military Training, Mutual Pining, Oaths & Vows, Political Parties, Proposals, Romance, Sensuality, We Hate Crests Club, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 42,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26646712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphicsheep/pseuds/orphicsheep
Summary: Felix is all thorns on the outside; Sylvain keeps his hidden; but they both see through each other, and always have.Sylvain and Felix before, during, and after the war.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50
Collections: Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection





	1. Reflections

Felix looked up at Sylvain with amber eyes as wide as saucers. Sylvain was halfway between him and Glenn in age, but taller, with a full head of wild red hair and bright brown eyes. The second Gautier son, but still heir of House Gautier, because he was the only one lucky enough to have been born with a Crest. Even as a ten year old child, Sylvain knew what that meant, and felt the burden of responsibility it carried with it holding him back. Felix never thought much about having been born with a Crest. Why should he? Glenn had one, too, and he was already a knight-in-training. He was the one who would carry on the family name and lead them to glory. Felix was just there to help, and it suited him. He would rather be a sword than a shield, anyway. Sylvain envied him.

"You don't look happy," Felix pointed out. His bluntness always made Sylvain smile. No one in House Gautier ever said what they meant. Felix's no-nonsense approach to conversations was... refreshing. He always knew where he stood with Felix.

"I overheard my parents arguing about me. They're already making their minds up about who I'm going to marry. It's so dumb. Why can't I just be a kid for five seconds?" He asked with a sigh.

Felix narrowed his eyes, confused. "Aren't you a little young to be getting married?"

"Not now, Felix, when I'm grown. They've got so many plans for me it's unreal, but no one's ever asked me what I want."

"What do you want?" Felix asked.

"I want to marry someone I care about, not some random girl I don't even love."

Felix went quiet, hung his head. "You mean... like Glenn and Ingrid?"

"Like Glenn and Ingrid, yeah! They get along really well. It makes sense."

"If I had to marry a girl, Ingrid wouldn't be so bad. At least she's nice."

"You think Ingrid's pretty?" Sylvain asked. This was news to him. He never knew Felix had a crush on his big brother's girl.

"I didn't say that! I just said she was nice, that's all... and she's my best friend, besides you, and if you're going to spend your whole life with someone, they should be your best friend, right?"

Sylvain rolled his eyes. "That's not how it works. You have to kiss them, too. Do you want to kiss Ingrid?"

Felix shrugged. "Dunno. What's kissing like?"

"You press your faces together."

"Sounds dumb. How do you breathe?"

"Through your nose?" Sylvain guessed. He hadn't kissed anyone yet.

"Huh. Do you want to kiss Ingrid?" Felix asked, testing the waters, head tilted to one side.

Sylvain smiled. "Who wouldn't?! She's gorgeous! But she's Glenn's girl, and I'm not getting in the way of those two."

For some reason, this revelation made Felix feel like he had a leaden stone in his chest. He tried to ignore it. He knew Sylvain wouldn't make a move, because Ingrid was Glenn's girl, but what did that matter? It's not like he was after Ingrid.

"Father said there's going to be a party tonight. Will you be there?"

"Why?"

"No reason. Just bring a sword," Felix instructed, before leaving without so much as a goodbye. Sylvain simply watched him go in stunned silence. Felix had a knack for running in and out of his life, and leaving him in a daze, ever since.

☆☆☆

_"I'm getting married,"_ Sylvain declared, as if he were announcing what was on the menu in the dining hall that afternoon.

Felix nearly choked on his tea, raised a hand to cover his mouth. "What do you mean, you're getting married? You haven't even graduated yet!"

"I got a letter this morning from my father. He says he's found 'the perfect match,' and thinks we should get engaged in the Spring, so we can have a Summer wedding."

Felix grimaced, but slowly resumed eating his breakfast. At least Sylvain still had a chance of worming his way out of this marriage if he tried. But that would take trying. That would take saying 'no' to his father, who scared him speechless. So Felix ate slowly, and kept his mouth shut, and tried to make peace with the thought that Sylvain was getting married much sooner than either of them expected.

"Who's the unlucky girl?" He eventually asked, mouth still full, without looking up from his plate. He didn't want to.

"Marian Hallet. Never met her, but apparently her parents are rich as sin. New money, but they own a lot of land, and my father wants it."

Felix nodded. This news came as no surprise to Sylvain, who always knew his parents would sell him to the highest bidder one day, but... he didn't expect it to happen so _suddenly,_ out of the blue. Neither had Felix.

"I can't believe you're seriously going through with it."

"What choice do I have?" Sylvain asked, throwing up his hands. "I don't exactly have a lot of options. Either I do what he says, or..."

 _"Or what?"_ Felix interrupted. "You really think he's going to get rid of you the way he got rid of Miklan? He can't. He _needs_ you. Don't think he doesn't know that, just because he won't admit it out loud."

Sylvain met Felix's gaze, held it. "You want me to refuse?"

"Of course I want you to refuse! You shouldn't have to marry a complete stranger, this isn't the dark ages!"

Sylvain let out a bitter laugh, before he took to staring blankly into his soup. Occassionally, he moved his spoon around. It only made him look more pathetic.

"What else am I supposed to do with the rest of my life? We won't always have the Monastery."

Felix really wished that 'we' didn't jumpstart his heart the way it did, but it did. "Do you really think you could survive a quiet life in the countryside?"

"I don't think I'll know until I try. But there are worse things than a quiet life in the countryside, Felix. What do you plan to do, once you're too old to swing your sword?"

"I dunno," Felix mumbled as he ate. "Die, probably. Fighting's the only thing I'm any good at."

Sylvain looked him up and down, as if committing his image to memory. As if this really was the end of an era. But he forced a smile that didn't touch his eyes, for Felix's benefit. It only made Felix more cross. Sylvain _knew_ he didn't have to lie to him, the way he lied to everyone else. He didn't have to pretend to be happy when he wasn't. He didn't have to pretend to be _okay._

"Do you want to do some more training after breakfast? I need something a little stronger than tea to wake me up this morning."

Felix nodded, and ate all the faster, because he was eager to have another match with Sylvain. He liked fighting, because it was the perfect way to get out of your own head. When you're trying to survive, you don't think about anything else. All that matters is how your blade, your body, and your opponent are positioned, and how you move them. He liked fighting with Sylvain, because it was the only way to get close to him without having to think about all the reasons why he shouldn't.

☆☆☆

_On the night of the party, Sylvain brought a sword. He kept it sheathed. His parents would have asked, if they cared, if they paid any attention to him at all, but they were too busy fretting over their own apperance, and trying to negotiate formal and informal contracts with other noble families. Thankfully, Sylvain was allowed to wander off on his own this time, and listen to the music, and watch the dancers, before the banquet was held, and everyone was called to the dining table and their reserved places. His instinct, when he saw Felix's dark blue-crowned-head stand out from the crowd, was to go to him, because he waved, but one of the servants stopped him, and showed him to his assigned seat. He ate in silence, kept his head down, and minded his manners, because he knew what would happen if he didn't. It felt strange, when he heard adults talking about him as if he wasn't there and couldn't hear, when they referred to him as 'an only child' now his brother had 'left.' What a strange euphemism for getting kicked out. Every now and then he did raise his head to look at Felix, who was seated across the table and to the right of him. The adults seated on either side of him kept reprimanding him for 'using the wrong cutlery' and 'scarfing down his food like a feral animal,' just because he struggled to master the intricate ettiquette that had been beaten into them, into Sylvain, into most of the nobles there, brought up with a heavy hand. Most of them suspected that Felix was 'wilder' than the others because his mother had passed away, and it was a mother's duty to teach a child good manners. It always raised Sylvain's heckles, whenever he heard anyone speak about Felix's mother. He had only known her for the briefest moment, but he knew the way Felix spoke about her, with so much reverence, and tears in his eyes, and that was all the confirmation he needed that she was a good woman, and anyone who spoke ill about her deserved to have their tongues cut out._

_While Sylvain kept an eye on Felix, Felix kept an eye on him. It didn't escape his notice how shy Sylvain was, when he wasn't putting on an act, and how small he looked, when his parents glared at him every time he dared to open his mouth. He knew Sylvain was afraid of his family. More importantly, he knew why. He still remembered the day their search party found Sylvain, in the middle of winter, abandoned down a well. Glenn had been the one to find him, but Felix had tagged along, to feel important. He had a small bow strapped to his back, and a quiver of arrows, and a hunter's cap. And he had thrown them off to surge forward into Sylvain's arms, hugging him tightly as tears streamed down his face. Sylvain looked more dead than alive when they found him. When Glenn asked what happened, and who did this to him, Sylvain said it was his brother, and Felix held on all the tighter, and promised never to let go. In the end, Glenn had to yank his little brother off of Sylvain, so he could get the small, frostbitten redhead onto the back of his horse and to the estate as quickly as possible. There, the servants had swaddled him in warm towels, and brought out a basin of hot water for him to put his feet in. He looked funny, all wrapped up in a coccoon of towels, teeth still chattering, with both hands holding firmly on to a mug of hot cocoa. Felix had planted himself in front of Sylvain, to stand guard over his friend, dropping his bow to the floor, and not even bothering to discard his heavy books and clothes, still caked with snow._

_"What are you staring at?" Sylvain had asked with a grimace. "How bad do I look?"_

_"Bad." A long pause, which devolved into a staring contest. "My father sent for yours. He should be here soon."_

_Sylvain sighed, shook his head. "This isn't the first time Miklan's acted out. I don't think my father will go easy on him this time. But I don't blame him."_

_Felix raised his head, eyes wide. "What do you mean?! He threw you down a well! He tried to kill you!"  
_

_"I was born with a Crest. He wasn't. That's what all this is about. He's the eldest son, but I'm getting everything, and he's getting nothing, because all our family cares about are stupid Crests."_

_Felix nodded his head, sympathetically. "You don't like having a Crest, do you?"_

_"I hate it. I wish I could rip it out of my chest and give it to him, so everyone would leave me alone, and I could just be... Sylvain."_

_"You're just Sylvain to me," Felix was quick to point out. "I wouldn't care if you didn't have a Crest."_

_Sylvain smiled, lifted his head. He looked funny, swaddled in hot towels, with only his hands sticking out to hold that mug. He raised it to his lips, sipped it. His hair was still damp, stuck to his face._ _Felix moved forward, tentatively, to push it out from his eyes._

Would we ever have met, if I didn't have a Crest? _Sylvain wondered._ If Miklan were here instead of me?

_"Good. Just don't sob all over me next time, okay?" Sylvain chided, lowering his voice._

_Felix smiled, shook his head._ _"Shut up and drink your cocoa!"_

After dinner, when the servant cleared his plate away, they left a small scrap of parchment in front of Sylvain. He quickly snatched it up once he realised what it was, but waited until no one was looking before unfolding it.

_Meet me behind the gazebo._

_Fe._

Laconic as ever. Sylvain turned the parchment over. Felix had torn out a page from one of his lesson books. There was some kind of equation on the back.

Sylvain wasted no time getting out of the main hall, which was once again filled with loud music and dancing figures, in sparkling dresses and elegant uniforms. He went out in the garden, where the air was clear, and he could actually breathe. The stars were bright overhead. The Moon was almost full. And there was no one around. He stumbled out a bit further, leaving the door to close by itself. Music poured out of the open door as he searched for the gazebo. It was on the outskirts of the garden, far from the house, and not particularly well lit, but true to form, Felix was waiting for him, sword stretched out across his legs.

"You took your time," he snapped, sounding irritable as ever. It was not the warm reception Sylvain had been expecting, after receiving such a mysterious note, but... it was Felix, so he didn't mind.

"You know you could have just asked me to walk outside with you," Sylvain pointed out, crumpling up the message in his hands.

"I hate parties. I'd rather fence. Did you bring a sword?"

Sylvain sighed. As much as he hated these parties, too... he was not sure he was up to fencing, either, after such a large meal. "I've just eaten, Fe."

"If you don't think you can beat me, that's okay..."

"Now, I never said _that..."  
_

"I've been practicing while you were away, waiting for the day you returned. I won't be so easy to defeat this time."

That stopped him in his tracks. Had Felix really been thinking about him every time he took up his sword?

"You mean... you've been practicing, all this time, just so we could have a rematch?"

Felix scoffed. "I didn't think it would take you so long to come back."

"It's not my choice where we go."

Felix was already on his feet, sword extended, as if it was an extension of his arm. He cut through the air, dancing lightly on his feet, in a mock parry and thrust. He had been practicing. Sylvain resisted the temptation to clap, because he knew Felix would just clap him round the ear in response.

"Well it's your choice, now, whether you want to fight an honourable duel, or turn and run, like a coward," Felix challenged, turning his training sword on Sylvain. He did succeed in making it look vaguely threatening, even though it was only made of wood. Sylvain smiled, despite himself. He was kind of a cute kid, really, the way he got so carried away by these things.

"You've been reading too many stories. Real knights don't talk like that."

"Glenn does."

"Yeah, well... Glenn is one-of-a-kind."

He drew his training sword from its sheath, examined it. Felix tensed up, at the sight of it, as if he thought Sylvain was going to cut him down suddenly, and try to win that way, by cheating. No. If Felix wanted a fight, he'd give him a fight, and he'd make it good. He had been practicing, too. Although he hadn't been thinking of Felix at the time. Sylvain walked into the gazebo and circled Felix a few times, like a shark, before deciding where he wanted to stand. Then he stood back a few paces, extended his sword.

"Ready?"

"Ready!" Felix said, a little too quickly.

He was too eager to prove himself. Too proud. Sylvain knew how to use that against him, as soon as they started moving. He pushed forward, and Felix blocked him, pushed back. Sylvain tried again. Blocked. Then he got more creative.

He had to admit Felix was light on his feet, but he was far too aggressive. He put so much force behind each thrust, trying to make up for his lack of height and raw strength with, from the looks of it, sheer willpower. But it tired him out quicker than it tired Sylvain, who easily deflected blows, waiting until Felix was distracted before striking. Felix fought well, but in the end, Sylvain got the upper hand, knocking his sword out from his hands, and pressing the blade to his throat. Felix locked up, wide-eyed, reacting as if the blade were a real one. 

"Looks like I win again, Fe."

He opened and closed his mouth, like a fish, but no words came out.

"Do you yield?" Sylvain asked. Felix had forgotten his lines. Sylvain drew back his training sword, giving Felix room to breath.

"It was all... a waste of time," he stammered out. "All that hard work... and you still beat me..."

"Maybe it's because you had the wrong fencing partner. You should have been sparring with me."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Yeah, I really should have. But you weren't here, and I..." he trailed off, losing his way. "I missed you."

"Did you really? I missed you, too. I missed sneaking through the house, after hours, to steal snacks from the kitchen. Those boiled sweets your cook used to make. Sparring. I even missed hunting."

"You don't have to say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you hated it. I know you didn't hate it."

"I _do_ hate it! You only enjoyed that hunting party because it was your first. Trust me, they get old _fast._ Anyway, I'm useless with a bow. I don't see why I can't just hunt with my lance, or an axe, or..."

"I can teach you how to use a bow, if you want."

When Sylvain turned his head, he was surprised to find Felix' wide amber eyes, glinting in the moonlight, looking expectantly at him.

"You know what? I'd like that."

"And you won't... you won't go away for so long next time, will you?"

Sylvain could almost swear there were tears in his eyes, but it might have just been the bad lighting.

"No... I'll try not to. And I'll stay in touch. We can write letters!"

"Letters. That sounds nice." He sniffed. Okay, those were definitely tears.

"Are you okay? Come here," Sylvain said, extending a hand. Felix tensed, hesitating a long moment before he slowly edged forward. Instead of taking the hand Sylvain offered, he threaded his arms around Sylvain's waist and hugged him.

"I was afraid when there was no news... I was afraid something happened to you."

"Nothing's going to happen to me, Fe. Someone has to stick around to look after you. And I won't go easy on you, like Glenn does! No free passes."

He wrapped one arm around Felix to return the hug, than gave his forehead a quick kiss. Felix buried his head into Sylvain's shoulder.

"Shh. You don't have to cry, okay? I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Sylvain, true to his word, returned to the Frauldarius House more often that year, and the following year. It meant pushing his parents, convincing them of the importance of 'making a good impression' with the Duke if they wanted to maintain a strong alliance, and if he was going to succeed when he joined Glenn and Felix at the Monastery in a few years time. His latest visit, however, had not gone according to plan. Almost as soon as Sylvain walked through the front door of the Frauldarius estate, and before he had even got to exchange a single word with Felix, a hunting party was announced.

Sylvain groaned, said he didn't want to go. His father told him 'tough luck,' and demanded a bow be made especially for him. He had barely used the last one, but he had grown, too, and needed a larger, sturdier bow, now. As soon as the party gathered outside the Fraldaurius estate, Sylvain made quick work picking his way to Felix's side. They were divided up into groups. Glenn was going with Ingrid, because he so rarely got to see her, now he was training to become a knight. Going with Ingrid also meant getting to share her horse. Sylvain considered asking for a horse, because he had taken some riding lessons already and was getting better at handling horses, but was quickly told off. He was too young, and too inexperienced, and it would be too dangerous for someone who didn't know how to handle a bow on solid ground to try and handle it on the back of a horse. So they walked, and Felix stuck close to Sylvain's side, laughing every time he raised his bow and scaring away the animals.

Sylvain finally threw his arms up, after Felix's carelessness drove a deer away. _"What's your problem?!"_

"You're not holding the bow right. Here, let me show you." Felix edged forward, and around Sylvain, lightly touching the side of his ribs so he'd move his elbow out and then guiding his arms into place, one hand still resting, inexplicably, on Sylvain's hip. He lightly prodded at his foot, too, so he would spread his legs further apart, and straighten out the line of his back. "There. Like that. Now, _fire."_

Sylvain was too busy looking at Felix to aim. Felix, for his part, was too busy focusing on Sylvain's hands and feet, to notice.

But he fired at... something.

"I'm sure that rosebush deserved to die," Felix replied quietly, with a smirk.

Sylvain opened his mouth, closed it. Was that a joke? Did Felix make jokes, now? How long had he been away? It had been three or four months since his last visit, and Felix had already grown taller, and grown his hair out, but he brushed it back behind his ears, and pinned it up, to keep it out of his face. Sylvain wondered what he looked like, with his hair down, than cursed himself.

They were friends, and you were not supposed to look at friends like that, were you? He could just imagine Ingrid's reaction, if she could see him now. _You'd settle for just about anything with a pulse, wouldn't you?_

"Do you want me to show you how to fletch arrows?" Felix asked, amber eyes aglow. Sylvain's jaw snapped shut. He made some kind of noise he hoped sounded like affirmation. "Here, come with me." He said, taking back his hands, and giving a little wave to signal Sylvain to follow him, as he turned his footsteps in the direction of some trees. Sylvain followed, obediently.

What happened to the young, naivë Felix he used to tease, because he always came to Sylvain with tears in his eyes, or waving a wooden sword around? Now it was Felix showing him the ropes. Felix who knew everything. Felix who could easily best him with a sword, or bow, or knife... he could probably beat him with a lance, too, if he ever tried.

Felix took him on a veritable treasure hunt through the forest, listing off the things they needed to make good arrows, and collecting them on their way. Once they had amassed a fine collection, they set to work, on an overturned log. Felix sat crosslegged, fletching arrows. Sylvain watched him closely, and tried to mimic him. Felix may have had more experience than Sylvain when it come to hunting, and using bows, but... he was not the best teacher in the world. He taught, and learned, by showing, but he was useless when it came to explaining anything. He just 'wasn't good with words,' he had admitted, once, to Sylvain, which, after their strangely quiet quest through the snow-capped woods... was not surprising. Sylvain made a few 'passable' arrows, and Felix decided they were ready to put them to use. He grabbed Sylvain's arm, dragged him off the log. He barely had time to get on his feet before careening shoulder-first into the ankle-deep snow they were wading through, this high up in the mountains. Sylvain tried to shoot, but missed his mark every time, and Felix made him dutifully go in search of his arrows and retrieve them. "We can't afford to be wasteful, especially in battle."

"This isn't exactly a battlefield, Fe."

"No, but we have to be prepared. One day it might be."

Felix raised his bow, aimed, fired. His arrow hit its mark, perfectly, a knot in the tree farthest from him. He cut an impressive silhouette, against the stark white of the snow, and bright rays of the sun, outlining him. Sylvain hadn't paid his bow much attention before, but he was paying attention, now.

"Did you make that bow yourself?" Sylvain asked. Felix nodded. "Could you show me how to make one?"

"Sure. But you'll have to stick around for more than two days. A good bow takes time."

Then he smiled, out of nowhere, catching Sylvain off guard.

"What's wrong?"

"Your face looks really pink."

Sylvain snorted, hid his head. "I'm not used to the cold."

"Here," Felix said, bringing up both his gloved hands, to cup either side of Sylvain's face.

Sylvain snapped upright, eyes going wide as saucers. "W-what are you doing, Fe?"

"Keeping you warm. Is it working?" He explained, flattly.

"Y-yes, but... you can't hold my face while I fire."

"And I can't fire while I hold your face."

"So who-do we--" Sylvain stammered out meekly. _"What_ do we... do... about... this?"

 _"This?"_ Felix repeated, drawing the word out, considering him. He was standing far too close, and Sylvain could have sworn he saw his glance falter to his lips. And he didn't... dislike, the ideas that put in mind. He parted his own frost chapped lips with his tongue, wet them, as if that would make talking any easier. It really didn't.

"Do you want to take the next quarry, or should I?" Sylvain managed, after he'd cleared his throat.

"I want to kiss you."

"Oh. Oh!" Sylvain flushed, if it were possible, an even brighter shade of red than the cold had made him, as Felix pushed forward, with a kiss as aggressive and graceless as everything Felix did. Once they got past the initial knocking together of teeth, and noses, and shock, Sylvain eased the kiss into something more gentle, and tender, and Felix, competitive in all things, did his best to keep up.

If his masterplan had been warming Sylvain up, he succeeded. But just as suddenly as he'd kissed him, Felix drew away, and stumbled a few heavy steps back, through the snow. He looked pointedly at Sylvain, more like a thief on trial before a judge than... whatever Sylvain had been expecting to see when he opened his eyes after that kiss.

"Wow. Okay. Okay. That was... that was a lot. Felix, what was that? Felix..." Sylvain started stammering out, once he'd regained the capacity for speech. Whatever he managed to get out must have been enough to frighten Felix, because he bolted. Sylvain ran after him. "No, wait, stop! Slow down, Felix!" He called out, stumbling forward as he tried, badly, to run through the thick snow that carpetted the uneven wood floor. He kept running into well-hidden roots and boulders, until eventually he found Felix, hiding behind a tree.

"There you are," he declared, putting an arm against the tree to hold himself up as he gasped to catch his breath. "Why did you run away?"

"You started talking."

"I'm... sorry?"

_"You weren't supposed to talk!"_

Sylvain narrowed his eyes, confused.

"What... was I supposed to do?" He asked.

"You were supposed to kiss me back, or punch me, or... do _something!_ "

"I thought I did," Sylvain said, scratching the back of his head.

"You know I'm no good at talking!"

"Yeah I... I know," Sylvain said, as the wheels slowly started to fall into motion. Of course Felix wasn't making any sense, but he wasn't making sense in a peculiarly Felix way. "But I just don't know what to do with this. I..." he raised a hand, combed it through his hair. "No one's ever kissed me before."

Felix's head swivelled up, eyes wide, shining. "What, never?"

"No!"

"But I thought... Ingrid said..."

"I had a girlfriend? Yeah, I lied."

_"Why?"_

"Because... I don't know, why do people say anything?"

"So... you're not going to leave me for some girl?"

"What? No, of course not. Wait. Was that what this is about?! You were _jealous?!_ "

It sounded almost too good to be true, Felix, who was better than him at... just about everything under the Sun, was jealous of _him!_

"I've wanted to kiss you ever since you kissed my forehead in that gazebo," he explained, lowering his eyes.

"Felix..."

"I wanted to know what it felt like. I've never kissed anyone on the mouth before."

"So I was just... an experiment, and you thought I wouldn't mind, because I have _so many girlfriends,_ I must be really good at kissing?" Sylvain guessed.

Felix frowned, eyes darting away, but still trained on the ground. "I wasn't thinking about them. I was just thinking about how much I'd miss you, if you left again."

"I'm not going anywhere," Sylvain reiterated, taking a step closer. He raised a hand to gently cup the side of Felix's face. He lifted his chin.

"How can I believe you, when I know you're going away as soon as this hunt is over?"

"It's only for a couple of months. Once we're at the Monastery together, we'll have all the time in the world."

"If your brother doesn't find you, first. If war doesn't break out. If your father doesn't decide to send you away..."

Before he could go on any further, Sylvain kissed him again. Partly because he wanted to. Partly to shut him up.

Sure enough, it worked. Felix was a lot less talkative when he pulled away.

Sylvain looked him up and down, considering him. He didn't want him to start crying again, so he had to come up with a way to console him. Yes, his family were going away soon, and they would take him with them, but... he knew, sooner or later, they would be reunited, and right now, all he wanted to do was spend what little time they had together.

"What if we made an oath to stay together no matter what?"

"Until we die together," Felix added with surprising feeling, lifting his chin. "I want to die with you."

Sylvain stifled the urge to laugh. He didn't know why he should find it so surprising that Felix was as violent in love as he was when they played at war.

 _"Goddess,_ you're so melodramatic, Felix! I don't want to think about dying when we have our whole lives ahead of us."

"But when we do die... I want to be by your side. I want your face to be the last thing I see."

"Yeah, okay... how about this? I swear I will always find my way back to you, no matter how much time or distance may cut between us." He held out his hand, in front of Felix, who clasped it, so their palms met, and he drew him forward, away from the tree where his back was pressed. "Until death should part us."

Felix smirked a little, at that, but nodded his head. "Until death should part us."

"What are you smirking about?"

Felix leaned in close to Sylvain's ear to whisper: "It sounds like a wedding vow."

Sylvain shoved him over, into the snow. "This whole thing is so dumb, I don't know why I let you talk me into it..."

He started walking deeper into the woods. Felix got up and trotted after him. "Because I'm a good kisser!" He shouted.

"You really aren't," Sylvain shouted back.

"How would you know, if you've never kissed anyone else?"

"You hurt my nose!"

"I'll hurt your nose again, if you don't find me a large rabbit!"

"Is that a promise?" Sylvain asked, swivelling backwards to face Felix, and cut him off. Felix stuck his tongue out and snatched the bow loosely slung over Sylvain's shoulder and ran.

Sylvain scrambled to run after him and wrestle it back, but Felix tripped, dragging both of them into the snow and halfway down a hill. But it was okay, because the bruises didn't last more than a few days, and it meant Felix had to cover his face with apologetic kisses, in lieu of healing spells or a medicine kit. It would be a few hours before someone found them, and the hunt was over.


	2. Before the War

They were always fighting or training together. Each time, they seemed a step closer to... something new. To each other. At first it had been graceless and awkward. Felix throwing everything he had at Sylvain while he dodged and parried and panicked because he could not even _pretend_ to hurt Felix. But that was when he first came to the Monastery and foolishly expected everything to go back to the way it was when they were children. _Best friends for life. Always in sync._

But he had fallen out of step with Felix. Losing his brother had hit him hard. He always wanted to be alone. Ingrid and Sylvain had worked in tandem, trying to draw him out of his shell, and out of his room. They invited him to town, to parties, but the farthest they ever got him was the training grounds.

So, they fought. Sometimes each other. Increasingly, enemies. They fought Miklan. _Killed_ Miklan. Sylvain took up the lance, afterward, that corrupted him. _The Lance of Ruin._ Such a fitting name. Everyone fussed over him after that. Ingrid. Dmitri. The Professor. He turned them all away; laughed it off; said he was fine.

Felix was the only one who put his foot down and said: _"No,"_ when Sylvain tried to turn him away, and deflect, the way he had deflected everyone else. It was the first time Felix has ever come to his room, and when Sylvain tried to get rid of him, he walked inside, and shut the door behind him, repeating that phrase with fire in his eyes.

 _"No. I won't let you lie to me, the way you lie to everyone else. I know you're upset. You have every right to be upset. But don't blame yourself for what happened. Miklan_ chose _this."_

 _"I killed him!"_ Sylvain had croaked, with tears in his eyes. _"How is that not my fault?!"_

 _"You killed him because he had become a threat to himself and others. You killed him to save us. To save me. To save that village. To save... who knows how many lives! He wasn't your brother, anymore, he was just... a monster, who needed putting down. He chose that path for himself. He chose to wield a relic, knowing it would ruin him. He_ chose _ruin."_

 _"It could have been me,"_ Sylvan murmured, so softly Felix had to move forward to hear him. He extended a hand to cup the side of Sylvain's face, lifting his chin to face him. His tears were still hot, burning his eyes.

_"He's nothing like you! If your places were reversed, you would never become the monster he did. I know you like to hide it, but... you have a good heart, Sylvain. You care too much about your friends to turn on them, the way he did. You even care about Miklan, and he tried to murder you!"  
_

Sylvain didn't stop crying, but Felix planted himself on the bed beside him and let him cry on his shoulder until he had gotten it all out of his system, than he cleaned him up and took him to the dining hall. The next day he started Sylvain on a strict training regiment, insisting it would help him feel better.

 _"Your problem is you think too much,"_ he said, and for some reason, that was all it took to put Sylvain entirely at his mercy. Everyone else at the Monastery would chide him for not thinking _enough,_ for acting recklessly without ever stopping to consider the consequences. It was only Felix, wonderful Felix, who saw through his false front of unwavering confidence to see the tangle of anxiety and frayed nerves beneath it. 

* * *

They were never far from one another in battle. When they fought side by side, they had fallen into a strange kind of harmony. Always aware, at all times, where the other was and what they were doing. Even the Professor had remarked how 'uncanny' it was, that they knew each other so well they could predict their sparring partner's every move.

Which is why Sylvain _knew_ something was wrong with Felix when they trained that day, even though Felix was as monosyllabic as ever.

"You need to slow down," he cautioned. He didn't want Felix to collapse with exhaustion.

Felix grunted dissent. "It's not my fault you can't keep up."

"You're still upset I said yes, aren't you?"

"Why should I care? It's your life. You can throw it away if you want to."

 _"_ I'm not... throwing my life away. We won't be students forever. I have to think about the future. You should, too."

Another grunt. Felix ran at Sylvain with his sword raised, but he easily deflected the blow. Felix was off his game today. A bad sign.

"I don't want to be Duke, and there's no way I'm getting married off to continue the Frauldarius line. Our Crest dies with me."

Sylvain smiled sadly at him. "You say that now, but just wait until you meet the right girl. You'll change your tune."

Felix rolled his eyes, went in for another strike. Sylvain only narrowly dodged this one.

"Can you _please_ shut up about girls?! You know I don't like them."

Sylvain watched Felix closely as he clambered to his feet, jutting a hand up through his long blue-black hair, gasping to steady his breath, sweat still clinging to his brow. 

"...You don't, do you?" Sylvain observed, lowering his lance to look his fill at Felix. He frowned. "You never have."

"Just pick up your lance. You know I hate talking."

"Hypothetically... if you were to fall in love with someone..." Sylvain started, carefully. He knew it was like pulling nails trying to get anything out of Felix, but... well... he felt bad, for not having taken an interest in his best friend's love life, when he constantly berated him with his own. He was _always_ throwing women at Felix, and Felix always hissed and glowered like an angry raccoon when he did. For some reason, it never occurred to him that maybe it was just because Felix didn't like women.

Felix groaned. _"Sylvain!_ We came here to train, not talk about women!"

"No, hear me out! If you were to fall in love with someone, one day... what would they be like?"

_"Quiet!"_

"Have you ever been with a man?"

"I'm here with you."

Felix wasn't that dense, he couldn't be.

"No, I mean... you know what I mean. In bed."

"Don't be crass!"

"I'm not being crass! And it's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. You could tell me. I'm your best friend."

Felix lowered his blade. "I have more important things to worry about than sex right now. In case you haven't noticed, we're on the verge of war."

"I know, it's just... when we were younger... there was a time when I thought..."

Felix waited for him to finish that sentence, but he tapered off, eyes falling to the floor.

 _"What?"_ Felix snapped, running short on patience. He met Sylvain's gaze and held it, daring him to bring up the hunting party after so many years of silence. Sylvain had kissed him back, had _kept_ kissing him, until they were caught by servants, and Sylvain got in trouble with his parents. They hadn't talked about it since, but it wasn't like Sylvain had forgotten, he just figured... it was something kids do, because they're young, and stupid, and full of hormones, and kissing feels nice, whoever you're with. Kissing Felix felt nice. He just didn't talk about it because every time he alluded to that party, Felix got skittish and changed the subject, which he read as regret. But maybe the part he regretted wasn't kissing another boy, it was just... kissing _him._

"Nothing. Nevermind. I just... want you to know... I support you! If you wanted to kiss a man I would think that's... terrific!" He wanted to die. _Terrific._ Why did he say terrific? Nobody says _terrific._

"I don't want to kiss anyone," Felix muttered, examining his sword. Not a complete lie. At the moment, he was too angry at Sylvain to even consider kissing him. "But if I did... it wouldn't be a woman. Are we done here?"

 _"I_ have to run to catch my next seminar... but _we're_ not done yet, I'm buying you dinner!" He said, thrusting a pointed finger into Felix's chest.

He drew back, perplexed. "You're... buying me dinner?"

"In town, at seven! My treat!"

His eyes narrowed. Sylvain never did _anything_ without an ulterior motive. "Why are you buying me dinner?"

"To catch up! It will be just like old times." He threw an unwanted arm around Felix's shoulder as he made his way to the door, dragging Felix after him. "So what do you say? Will you join me?"

Felix grumbled some more, but eventually nodded assent, just to be rid of him. So they were going in to town, together, to have dinner. Sylvain had just figured out Felix liked men, and his first reaction had been... to invite him to dinner. Felix was not sure what reaction he expected, but... it wasn't this. With a heavy sigh, he went back to training, and tried not to think about dinner.

☆☆☆

Felix fought like a demon that day. He made quick work of anyone brave enough to face him, but his list of prospective sparring partners soon ran out. Ingrid eventually found him alone, venting all of his rage on a training dummy.

"Don't you think they've had enough?" She suggested, cocking her head to one side.

The dummy's head was hanging on by a thread. Felix pulled back, still gasping for breath.

"What do you mean? I'm just getting started!"

"Dmitri told me you were in here, terrorizing the new recruits. Do you want to talk about it?"

"There is... nothing... to... talk... about," he managed, hacking into the training dummy's torso a few more times for good measure. It was going to ribbons before his eyes before he finally pulled back, and relaxed his posture, and his hold on his sword. He moved across the room to a bench. Ingrid followed him. Then he took up a rag and started cleaning his blade.

"What's this really about?" Ingrid asked, sitting down beside him on the bench. She placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping to reassure him. It worked. It always did. His heart stopped racing.

"Sylvain's getting married."

Ingrid raised a brow. "...Oh? Who's the unlucky girl?"

Felix cracked a smile, despite himself. "That's what I said!"

The smile didn't last. "Her name's Marian... something. Her family owns a lot of land somewhere. He's never even met the girl, but his father thinks they'll be a 'good match,' so he's got the wedding all planned."

Ingrid gave his shoulder a light, sympathetic squeeze. "I'm sorry, Felix. I know how hard this must be for you..."

 _"For me?!"_ He croaked, going hoarse.

"I know how close you two are. It must feel like breaking up the set. It's never easy, growing up, growing apart..."

"We're not _growing apart,'_ " Felix asserted, baulking at the very suggestion that anything could ruin their friendship. "And I'm not going to stand by and watch while my best friend gets married against his will to a complete stranger. I'm going to stop it. I'll crash the wedding if I have to."

Ingrid's expression suddenly turned sombre. _"Why?"_ She asked. 

"What do you mean, _'why'?_ Because he's my friend? Because he deserves better, than a loveless marriage and a job he hates, working for a man he hates? Because I..." he tapered off, raising a hand to his head, as if he were nursing a headache.

"You what?" Ingrid asked, threading her brows together.

"I can't bare to see him like this!"

Even admitting that was hard. But Ingrid had no mercy.

She kept _going._ "Like what?"

"Like all the lights gone out of him!" Felix hung his head, buried his face in his hands. " _No one_ means as much to me as he does. When we're together, everything's simple and easy... but when we're apart... I feel like I'm missing an arm or a leg, he's so much a part of me."

 _"_ Felix... I had no idea you felt so strongly..."

His throat went dry as he turned to face her. 

"I think I love him, Ingrid... and I don't know how to _stop_ being in love with him."

She froze for a moment, processing. Then she leaned in closer. "How long have you known?"

He forced a faint smile as he met her eyes. "The funny thing is... I think I always have."

"Have you really been in love with him this entire time?"

"He saw me when no one else did."

"I thought I saw you."

He made a face.

Well, he always was brutally honest. 

"So, when are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know. I was thinking after I die?"

She punched him in the shoulder. "Don't joke! You have to tell him! This could be just what he needs!"

"I can't tell him, Ingrid!" He gestured to himself, as if that explained everything. "I'm not exactly his type."

"I _know_ he feels the same way about you, he has to! He would do anything you asked, he's so useless around you!"

Felix scoffed. Sylvain may have chased him when he first came to the Monastery, but now? They had settled into a comfortable routine. Maybe they did seek each other out, dining and training together whenever they had a chance, and maybe they sometimes asked to fight together, because they had a natural sympathy that worked well on the battlefield, but that hardly meant Sylvain would just... accept it, if he knew his best friend has been in love with him since they were children.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship. That's why I avoided him when I first came here. I wanted to learn how to be alone. But now he's back in my life, and I... I don't want to lose him again. You have to help me, Ingrid!"

She raised a hand to her chin, considering him. "I have a solution, but you have to promise not to hit me."

"I'm not going to hit you, Ingrid." 

"Sylvain couldn't marry this girl... if he was already married. To you."

If Felix weren't in such a foul mood, the suggestion would have made him laugh.

"Hilarious. He would never agree to it, even as a joke. He doesn't see me that way."

"What way? Like those girls whose names he can't remember? Yeah, no. You're in a completely different league. Have you _seen_ the way he follows you around like a lapdog? The way he asks about you when you skip meals or seminars? _Ingrid, is Felix eating enough? Ingrid, is Felix getting enough sleep? Ingrid, is Felix seeing anyone...?"_

"...Did he really ask if I was seeing anyone?"

 _"Yes! Because he's an idiot!_ He should have just asked you himself! You two are so dumb it's infuriating!"

"Just because he... _worries_ about me, sometimes, doesn't change anything. Everyone knows he's girl crazy."

Ingrid made a sceptical noise. "Do you really think he _likes_ the girls he takes home? He might be attracted to them, sure! But he isn't interested in them as people. It's just... part of his self-loathing. There was a time when I worried the only reason he liked you was because you were so mean to him, but... I'm starting to think now it's your brutal honesty he likes. You and I are the only friends he's got brave enough to tell him the truth even when it hurts."

Felix knew Sylvain hated his Crest, his father, his brother, and the women he collected and discarded without ever bothering to learn their names... but for some reason, he had never worked out the reason he hated all of these people and still worked so hard to please them was because he hated himself most of all, and some part of him must have felt he deserved to be unhappy, the same way Felix...

"I'm going to be late for dinner. I have to go."

 _"Don't you need an engagement ring first? I can help you find one!"_ Ingrid called after him, as he leapt to his feet and headed for the door, sword still in hand. 

_"Don't breathe a word of this to anyone, or I'll kill you!"_ He shouted over his shoulder before departing, a blur of blue and white.

"Oh, Felix. Never change," she hummed in a sing-song voice, as the heavy doors of the training ground fell closed behind him.

☆☆☆

Dinner did not go as Felix expected, but he probably should have expected that. Sylvain waited until Felix had a couple of drinks in him before he started asking about boys. Nearly every one that passed them. _Do you like him? What about him? What's your type?_ Then he started asking about their _friends,_ which was even worse. _Do you like anyone at the Monastery?_ How did he expect Felix to answer? Was he just waiting for him to run out of patience, grab him by the scruff of his neck, and shout: _Y_ _ou, idiot!_ It's not like Felix wasn't _tempted,_ but any temptation was quickly dashed when Sylvain, submitting defeat, quickly turned his attention back to chatting up random girls.

"Just because you want to live the rest of your life miserable and alone doesn't mean the rest of us have to." He knocked back another glass, drinking up the dregs. "I'm enjoying my last day of bachelorhood, after all."

That brought Felix crashing down to Earth. He was still accepting the proposal. Why did that surprise him? It's not as if anything had changed, since that morning.

Sylvain asked Felix to watch his drink before sauntering up to a girl. Then another, after the first one slapped him. Felix glared at them, before drinking up what was left of Sylvain's ale, and daydreaming about the training dummy he was going to _obliterate_ tomorrow.

He didn't even blame Sylvain for treating him this way. Sylvain was just being... Sylvain. He blamed _himself_ for falling for it, for genuinely thinking Sylvain invited him on a night out because he wanted to spend time with _him,_ and not... pressed up against the wall with some barmaid, with his tongue down her throat.

He was making a lot more progress with girl number two. Felix couldn't bare to watch, but every time he looked away, he got paranoid, and had to keep stealing glances. He hoped she would eventually get wise and slap him in the face, like girl number one. But no, Sylvain had moved in real close, and was whispering into her ear, and she kept _laughing_ incessantly, like a schoolgirl. And then he kissed her neck. That was the last straw. Felix's hands tightened into fists. He stood up, ready to storm out, when someone appeared at his shoulder.

"Are you alone?"

He stopped cold, his head swivelling to face a young man who looked like a soldier, with honey-coloured hair and brown eyes. He was smiling at him.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"Uhh..." Felix stammered, unsure how to respond. He felt his face grow warm. Was he blushing? Or was it the ale?

"My name's Macron." He offered his hand. Felix warily took it.

"Felix. I was just... waiting for my friend..." he tried to say, gesturing with the hand holding a drink in Sylvain's direction, and nearly spilling it over himself. _Goddess, why am I so bad at this?_

Felix looked over his shoulder at Sylvain, and the soldier followed his line of sight, saw Sylvain and that girl, pressed up in a corner against the counter.

_They're kissing. Why does he have to be so shameless?  
_

"He looks preoccupied," Macron observed.

Felix cleared his throat. "Yeah, a little. This always happens. I bet he's left me to pay the bill, too."

"My offer still stands."

"What... offer...?" Felix asked, a little glassy eyed.

How much had he drunk? He didn't even know this man, he'd never seen him a day in his.... _N_ _o. No, he had. One of the reinforcements. A few weeks ago. A cavalier. Like Sylv._ Is that a type? Did he have a type, after all? He'd never really looked at anyone, besides Sylvain. Which was stupid, wasn't it? It's not like he wasn't _aware_ that other people could be attractive, it just... didn't register, because it never went deeper, and he wrote off all desire as a distraction. 

"I said I'd like to buy you a drink," the soldier repeated, extendeding a hand towards the bar. Felix cast one last long look back at Sylvain, only to find Sylvain's eyes were already trained on him, from across the room. He still had an arm around that girl's waist, but he gave Felix an encouraging smile and a thumbs up, of all things.

Felix tried to ignore his heart breaking when he felt a hand touch his shoulder, glide him away. He fell into step with his soldier, when he returned with drinks, and pulled him aside to a quiet corner.

He asked him about the Monastery, what it must be like to be a student there. All of Felix's answers were one word or less. Mostly 'hms' and 'uhhs' and 'yeahs,' that all glossed together. The soldier didn't seem to mind. Then he asked about Felix's Crest, which threw him a little. He would have liked this better if he could hide behind a veneer of anonymity. Not that he liked it.

After a couple of drinks, Felix stopped. But Macron kept going. A hand touched his waist, and Felix tensed, but let it. Then he leaned up caress his jaw, pull him closer.

"How handsome you are," Macron remarked with a peculiar reverence. His breath stank of alcohol. Felix didn't like it, the way he was breathing on him this close. But part of him liked the feel of his hands. It had been a very long time since anyone...

"Like a prince in a fairytale," he continued. Then he tried to kiss him. Felix didn't kiss back, but... he didn't pull away, either. "Come back to mine." There was no misreading that, or the look of hunger in his eyes. The way he'd kissed him. The hand, working its way slowly down his waist, before resting companionably on the edge of his hip.

And it clicked, because Felix was a reasonably intelligent man, when he wanted to be, just why he hated this situation so much. There was nothing wrong with this man. He was attractive, about the same age as Felix, and they were both 'unattached.' There was no good reason why he _shouldn't_ go home with him. The only problem was, well... he was boring. He was extremely boring. Felix had patiently listened to him talk, and talk, and talk, for over an hour, without saying anything, all while absently swigging ale and looking off into the middle distance, while this man entreated him and flattered him and touched him in ways that _did_ send shivers through him, but only because all the while, his thoughts and eyes were trained on Sylvain, and he could not help but imagine _him_ whispering in his ear, running his hands up his sides, taking his chin in his hands and poising his face to kiss him.

He didn't want this man. It would be unfair to both of them to keep up this charade. All he _wanted_ was... quite simply... to be _wanted,_ to be desired, by someone, anyone.

Macron leaned in, running his other hand up Felix's spine, as he tried to kiss him again. But Felix pushed him away this time, and he stumbled back, falling off-balance, and looking hurt. "What was that for?!"

A hand clamped down on Macron's shoulder, drawing both of their eyes.

"I think you've had a little too much to drink, pal," Sylvain said, with an easy-going smile, but Felix could tell from his tone it was forced. "Is he bothering you?" He asked, meeting Felix's eyes.

Felix stammered out... nothing but vague noises, and Sylvain turned his attention to Macron, who sneered.

"Go back to your girlfriend, we're doing just fine without..."

"Yes. He's bothering me." Felix answered. A delayed reaction. Both men turned to him. Macron's mouth fell agape. He looked betrayed. Felix almost felt sorry for him.

"I thought you said... _we were just...!"_

He shook his head, raising his hands defensively, and skirted his way around Sylvain before retreating deeper into the tavern, leaving the two men alone, and Sylvain staring expectantly at him.

"What was that about?" Felix huffed, feigning indignance. "I thought your entire mission tonight was getting me laid."

"Yeah, well, the mission changed. I didn't like that guy getting all handsy, breathing down your neck. You didn't look too happy about it, either. Did he hurt you?" Sylvain asked as he pressed closer, to take a better look at Felix. He reached out to take up his chin, saw the bruise on his neck. "...Is that a hickey? _Goddess."_

Felix abruptly pulled away. He didn't want Sylvain touching him there, not when that man had just... he shivered. He was starting to feel bad, now, that he'd let someone else kiss him, while thinking of Sylvain. What if it had gone even further? No one deserved being used like that.

"I was doing just fine, actually. I can handle myself."

"I know," was all Sylvain answered, quickly pulling his hand away. He kept his hands to himself, after that, but he wouldn't stop _staring._

"What happened to your girl, anyway? Did she get bored of you pawing her?"

"I, oh..." Sylvain mumbled, running his hand through his hair, the way he always did when he was nervous. "I dunno what happened to her. Look, do you want to get out of here?"

"You _don't know?_ How can you not know?! Did she just... disappear into thin air?"

Sylvain flushed a shade redder, avoided his eye. Wait. No. What was this. This wasn't... something was wrong.

"Can we please just leave, Felix? I'm tired and I want to go home."

" _You_ want to go home early? Are you feeling okay? Do you have a fever?" Felix asked, teasing, gently, before taking Sylvain's que, and heading for the door. Just as they were leaving he saw the girl Sylvain had been kissing, waving at him and calling his name. Sylvain rushed outside, a hand firmly clasping Felix's arm, as they stumbled out into the cold, fresh, night air and cobblestone streets. Felix quickly yanked his arm free, stumbling out of his grasp and backwards a few steps. "What was that about? Run into an ex or something?"

"I couldn't breathe in there. Too many people. And why did you have to run off with that... that man."

"Sylvain. You have been trying all night to get me to talk to men. I thought you'd be proud of me."

"Proud?! Look what he-he did to you!" He pointed at the hickey like it was a war wound. Felix's hand self-consciously shot up to cover it. "And I saw the way he was drunkenly pawing you like a twelve year old boy. You can't tell me you actually _enjoyed_ that!"

"I'm sorry my standards aren't as high as yours," Felix droled sarcastically. "Anyway. He was a good kisser."

Sylvain huffed. "Yeah? Then why aren't you with him, right now?"

"Instead of what?"

That knocked the ground out from under Sylvain. He looked confused.

"Are you asking why am I with you, instead of him?" Felix repeated, rephrasing himself.

"I don't understand the question..." Sylvain stammered out. How much had _he_ had to drink that night?

"Are you jealous that I kissed someone who wasn't you, or is it just the fact he wasn't any good at kissing?"

He looked even more confused. Felix _almost_ felt sorry for him. Then he remembered how easily he had shoved his tongue down that girl's throat in front of Felix, and put his hand up her skirt, after only two drinks. He had no right to be jealous. Felix strode a step forward, confidently. He had finally won the upperhand. For once in his life, Sylvain was jealous of _him_.

"Do you think you could do better?"

 _"W-what?"_ Sylvain stuttered meekly, going weak from the way Felix was _looking_ at him. He hated to think what he would do if Felix touched him, right now. Burn up like a torch?

This wasn't the ideal place to have this conversation. They were in a public thoroughfare, beneath a street lamp. It was quiet now, but noise, and drunks, spilled out of the doors in regular intervals. It stank of horse and ale and sick. Still, the Moon was full, illuminating the road before them. Maybe if they went for a long walk, Felix could sober him up, and then they could talk properly. 

"The hunting party happened, didn't it? Tell me I didn't create a false memory, that it really happened, so I know I'm not completely insane, because the way you've been acting ever since makes me think I am!"

"...Which hunting party?" Sylvain asked, playing dumb. And he was playing dumb. He had to be. It was his usual default, when backed into a corner. Pretend to be dumb, so people backed off. Felix saw through it. He always did.

 _"The one where you kissed me!"_ Sylvain went quiet, hung his head. "Oh. Now he remembers," Felix remarked with a sigh.

He turned away and started walking.

It took Sylvain a few moments to find his footing again, before he jogged to catch up with him. Felix was walking very quickly. 

"You kissed me first!" Sylvain finally said, as they approached the bridge that led back to the Monastery.

"You kissed back," Felix responded without missing a beat. "And it meant something to me. I know it didn't mean anything to you, I know you don't like guys, but... it meant something to me. I really liked you, you know? I thought the whole world revolved around you, back then. I thought you were _sooo_ great, and strong, and brave! And now I know what you're really like. You got used to having me around, didn't you? That's what you _really_ missed, wasn't it? Having a dumb, lovesick little kid, chasing your heels, so prepared to do anything you asked, no matter how _stupid_ or _dangerous_ or _illegal_ it was!"

"Felix..." Sylvain started, stretching out his hand toward Felix's arm. He quickly dodged out of reach.

"You have to make up your mind, Sylv! You can't say you don't want me, then get mad the minute someone else _does."_

"...I never said I didn't want you, Fe."

Felix stopped short. He swivelled back to face Sylvain. They locked eyes for a long moment... before Sylvain's expression suddenly changed, and he jolted upright, as he caught sight of a lantern appearing from out of the shadows, and two figures crossing the bridge. It took Felix a moment to realise what Sylvain was looking at. He turned around to see Mercedes and Ingrid crossing the bridge arm-in-arm. Mercedes was holding a small lamp aloft.

"Oh, hello, boys! What a surprise to find you here!" She said with an easy smile and wave.

"Hey, girls! What brings you out to this neck of the woods so late at night?" Sylvain asked, slipping easily back into character.

"We finished a difficult project, and decided to treat ourselves to a nice dinner on the town! We'd invite you, but no men allowed."

"Oh, I see how it is. Couldn't you make an exception for two men as charming and handsome as us...?" Sylvain was back to flirting already. He really was incorrigible.

Felix didn't like the way Ingrid kept _staring_ at him. She mouthed the words: _Have you told him yet, you great lout?_ While gesturing emphatically at Sylvain, who was too busy talking to Mercedes about their last seminar with Manuela to notice the two friends gesticulating wildly at each other, as Felix mouthed for Ingrid to mind her own business and leave before he beats her bl.....his mouth clamped shut mid-adjective when Sylvain and Mercedes turned to face him, hand already midair and closed in a fist, a halfway thrown punch which immediately dissolved, his hands falling to his side as he stood up stock straight.

"...Are you two okay?" Sylvain asked, gaze darting between them, scrapping whatever question he had been just about to ask.

"I was going to ask _Felix_ if he had given any more thought to my suggestion," Ingrid said, playing innocent.

"What suggestion?" Sylvain asked, with a broad smile. It did not escape Felix's notice the smile was for _her_ benefit, not his. He had been expertly avoiding Felix's eyes since company showed up.

Fine. Two could play at that game. Or could, if Ingrid didn't raise her brows, smiling smuggly at Felix, as she put the onus on him to fill in the blank.

"Ingrid thinks we should get married so your father can't marry you off to this week's latest heiress."

Cue laughter. Only Sylvain didn't laugh. His smile was starting to come apart, though. Small victories.

Mercedes raised a hand to her mouth, in mock surprise. "Oh, a _wedding!_ How terrific! Can I bake the cake?"

Sylvain's smile was unravelling more by the second. It finally came undone, while he looked Felix dead in the eyes. Felix tried to smile smugly back at him, like Ingrid had smiled at him, but his heart wasn't in it. He felt Ingrid touch his arm.

"Well, we'd better be going. My stomach won't stop growling."

"Yeah, have a good meal, Ingrid," he said, dismissively, hanging his head.

"Take care, boys. Stay safe. You never know what dangers lurk the Monastery on a cold, dark night like this. Marianne says it's haunted."

He nearly flinched when she got up on the tips of her toes to give his cheek a quick peck, before trotting off to join Mercedes, slinging an arm through hers.

"What was that for?" Sylvain asked, once the girls were out of earshot, and Felix started walking towards the bridge. He had stopped caring whether or not Sylvain was following; but he followed just the same. 

It was funny, but Felix was only just now beginning to notice how much their roles had been reversed. When they were kids, it was always Felix chasing Sylvain. Now it seemed like Sylvain was always chasing him.

"What? That little peck Ingrid gave me?" Felix couldn't help smirking, he looked so upset. "You have to stop getting jealous, Sylvain. You've kissed half the students in the Monastery."

 _"Only half?!_ I know you're angry at me, but that's no reason to undersell my abilities..."

Felix shook his head before running ahead. Sylvain picked up his pace to keep up. Eventually, as they closed in on the Monastery courtyard, they slowed their pace. Sylvain reached forward to catch up Felix's arm. The joking expression, and laughter, and fake smile was all gone. He was just... Sylvain.

"I never really thought about it," he admitted in a small voice. Felix wasn't altogether sure what 'it' was, but it felt rude to interrupt so he kept his mouth shut. "Not... not seriously. I never thought it was an option. Because it _isn't_ an option, not really, I know it's not, not for me. I'm the Heir to House Gautier. Everyone expects me to be... this great knight, who will carry on the family legacy! Everyone wants my Crest. But they don't want _me,_ nobody wants _me,_ nobody even _likes_ me! The most people do is... _tolerate_ me, and I know it."

"That's not true. You know that's not true."

"It _is_ true! You've seen the other students here. They're all smarter, or stronger, or more talented than I am. Lyisthea is barely fifteen years old and she knows more magic than I could learn in a lifetime! And Leonie is _legendary_ with a bow! And Dmitri will always be better than me with a lance, a-and have you seen Petra with an axe?"

Felix grumbled, about to interject that Sylvain was still the best cavalier they had, but Sylvain wouldn't let him.

"You were right when you said I resented the women who go out with me. I do. And it's not their fault, I _know_ it's not! I just hate knowing the only reason someone would be caught dead with someone like me is because they're desperate to get their hands on my Crest, and... that's all I could ever be, to them. To anyone. Just a walking Crest."

"You're not just a Crest, Sylvain!"

"What else do I have going for me? And don't say my stunning good looks and winning smile, we both know looks don't last, and I'm already one of the oldest students here."

"I know this may be hard for you to believe, but some of us do genuinely enjoy your company."

"Like who?" Sylvain scoffed. "Ingrid tolerates me. So does Dmitri. But no one actually _likes_ me."

"I do."

"You don't count. You don't like anyone." _  
_

"I like you," Felix repeated, more softly than the last time.

Sylvain shook his head. "...Is that a fact? Well, I don't. What a pair we make."

"So... will you promise to stop taking your dumb self-loathing out on random women, now you know better?"

"You want me to stop chasing women? What am I supposed to do instead? Learn how to sleep alone?"

"It would be a start."

Sylvain smiled. "You know, this is exactly why I like having you around. Everyone else pretends to like me, because they want something from me, but you have nothing to gain from putting up with my bullshit, and are always prepared to call me out when I'm making a mistake. I appreciate that."

"Good," Felix answered as they kept walking. Sylvain shoved his hands in his pockets, had his head down, watching his feet. "So are you going to tell your old man to get fucked?"

Sylvain's lifted his head to look up at the stars, and stopped moving. Felix stopped, too. "I can say no, Felix. What I can't do is... put this off forever. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to get married. Maybe not to this girl, maybe not this year, but... House Gautier needs heirs, and I'm an only child, now."

"Do you even _want_ children?" Felix asked. Sylvain gave him a funny look, like that was the more bizarre question under the Sun that Felix could have asked 

"I... I don't know. I never really gave it much thought..." He scrached the back of his neck. Another nervous habit.

"Do you want to get married and raise a family of tiny, Crest-baring, redheaded nobles?"

"No one's ever asked me what I wanted before."

"Well, I am! What do you want, Sylvain Jose Gautier?"

Sylvain grimaced, went quiet. Then he turned on Felix, gave him a long look. Then something changed, suddenly. He moved forward, extending a hand to push Felix back into the shadows a few steps, until his back connected with solid stone. Then he placed his hand on Felix's chest, kept it there. Leaned in close, closing his eyes. Listened to Felix's breath hitch. It was almost like a dream.

* * *

He remembered the Ball. _Dancing all night. A full card. All the most beautiful women in the Monastery, dressed to the nines. He finally ended up dancing with Dorothea. A slow dance. Hand in hand. Another wrapped around her waist. She was beautiful and she knew it. Everyone knew it. But as he pulled her closer, his focus was elsewhere. Scanning the room for any sign of Felix. He had been waiting all night for him to arrive, and when he finally did, it was just after they had started dancing, and it would have been rude to break it up now, and go to him._

_Felix wasn't dancing. He just loomed about the edge of the dance hall, sipping wine and looking daggers at anyone who had the audacity to ask him to dance. But people asked. And not just women. Even so far away, he could tell what they were asking, he could gauge Felix's response. He let down the men more easily than the women. Not that Sylvain made anything of that. What was there to make of that? He wondered what it would be like, to dance with Felix. Awful, obviously, because Felix didn't know how, really. Because he would step on his feet, just like he stepped on Ingrid's, when they were kids, and she tried to teach him. Sylvain had teased him, then, but... he wouldn't tease him now. He'd take it slow. One step at a time. Felix's hand in his, and he would guide him, just as easily as Felix had guided his hand, when he taught him how to fire an arrow...  
_

_"Why don't you go talk to him?" Dorothea asked. Nothing got past her. She was far too clever for anyone's good._

_"Who do you mean?" He answered dully, too lost in his own thoughts to remember what they had just been talking about.  
_

_"Felix," she answered breezily. "I know he's the one you want to dance with, not me."_

_"Who wouldn't be honoured to dance with you, Thea?"_

_"Yeah, yeah, I know I'm a catch... but I'm not blind, either. I know when the person I'm dancing with is only thinking about getting their arms around somebody else, and kissing that bitter, caustic mouth... he's like a lemon, Sylv. I don't know how you can kiss him."_

_She actually succeeded in doing the impossible: she made Sylvain Jose Gautier blush. He pulled back, to look her in the eyes, but their hands were still joined.  
_

_"That's ridiculous... why would I kiss Felix?" He huffed._

_Dorothea rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you've never even thought about it. Those hot hands, running down your chest. Those amber eyes, undressing you before his teeth..." she wanted to get a rise out of him. She was teasing him, for fancying his best friend, for his dumb unrequited crush. What's worse, it was working._ _He hadn't been thinking about kissing Felix, before. It hadn't really occured to him. He just wanted to dance, because he knew Felix didn't know how, and that's why he felt so out of place here now, surrounded by happy, smiling, dancing people._

_But he was thinking about kissing him, now. Of getting him alone in the woods, pushing him down onto the solid earth with a thud, hearing that sharp intake of breath before bending down to kiss him, a hand on his tits... which he definitely didn't have. He was a man. Oh, Goddess. He didn't even know what to do, after that. He didn't know what came next. Felix was already shirtless. Why was he just shirtless? Because it's cold! Ugh. He didn't want Felix to catch cold even in his dumb fantasy. All the heat rushed to his face, as he imagined the way Felix would moan into his mouth as he kissed him, if he touched him just right... the way Hilda had made him moan, when she... no, this was a bad place, he was in public, these were bad thoughts, he told himself, returning back to the room, and the woman in front of him, wide-eyed, with a jerk.  
_

_"You sound like a cheap romance novel," he snapped, looking down at his feet as he danced, to make sure he was keeping time._

_"Ah, so you've done your research! I'm proud."_

_"Felix is different. He's my friend. I've never... I wouldn't... he just...! I can't," he finally admitted, hopelessly. He wouldnt even know where to start._ _He knew women, he knew exactly what to do and say with women, but men... were different. He couldn't be as guarded with them.  
_

_"Just ask him to dance. I'm sick of watching him glower, miserably, in his corner, like a sad little spider, waiting for you to come play with him."_

_Sylvain lifted his head to lock eyes with Felix over Dorothea's shoulder, across the room. Something changed in his expression, then he turned his head, before storming out of the dance hall. Sylvain immediately let go of Dorothea's hand, to race out of the hall, after him.  
_

_He didn't call his name until he was outside, but it was already too late. He was out of earshot. He eventually found his footsteps circle to the Goddess Tower. A vain hope... for what? He knew Felix didn't want him, the way he wanted Felix, the way he had been trying so hard not to want Felix._ _His relief, upon finding Felix alone in the Goddess Tower, was tempered by the fact._ _  
_

_"...Felix?" He still called out, hesitantly, his voice shaking. Felix turned to face him._

_"I thought I'd find you here. Needed some fresh air?" He asked, his frown melting into a soft smile. He waited for permission before moving closer, before cutting in half the distance between them. A nod._

_"I hate dancing," Felix baulked._

_Sylvain sidled up to him._

_"Me too."_

_"Liar!"_

_"Oh, Felix. You wound me." He covered his heart dramatically. "Why else would I leave a perfectly good party to come looking for you?"_

_"I can't imagine."_

_"You're more fun than they are," Sylvain answered, leaning in close, as if he were imparting a secret._

_Felix huffed. 'Fun' was not an epithet usually associated with him. His eyes flashed. For a moment, in the moonlight, Sylvain almost recognised his old friend, shining through._

_"Do you want to go for a swim? No one's looking."_

_Felix reluctantly agreed, and Sylvain grabbed him by the arm, pulling him towards the lake. Just like old times. As if nothing's changed. And if his glance lingers a little longer at the sight of Felix in his small clothes before he dives into the water and is immersed in blue, then it's okay, because it's dark, and no one's looking, and nothing will ever come of it._

_Felix slaps a wave of water into his face while he's distracted, but Sylvain quickly retaliates, and soon enough they're both drenched. The walk back to their dorms through the chill night air will be fun. Dorothea will probably tease him some more, but... he deserves it, for dropping everything to be with Felix, but then... it's always been thay way, hasn't it? Nothing's really changed.  
_

* * *

He opened his eyes, only to find Felix still staring at him, with a look of... fear? He had been hoping Felix would get the idea by now, and kiss him again. He'd talked about being interested... but maybe all of that was in the past tense. Maybe he'd gotten over it. Could it be that easy? He couldn't imagine ever getting over Felix. He could just imagine... getting further away.

"Fe, when I asked if you were interested in anyone at the Monastery... it was because I wanted you to say me."

 _Now, do something!_ He wanted to shout, but Felix was still frozen with shock or fear or... something. So he tried lifting Felix's chin with his thumb and forefinger. Felix let him.

 _"Goddess, Fe..._ I've been so blind... when I was kissing her, it made me feel sick, because you were _right there,_ glaring at me, and... and it made me realise this entire time, it's always been you I come back to... it's always been you I want... and we've never... we never even..." he trailed off, at a loss for words, before finding his rhythm again. "So I left her, to look for you, and tell you I'm sorry for being such an idiot all these years, and... I found you and that man _together,_ and I... worried that I was too late, that I'd fucked up any chance we ever had by taking my precious time, that if I'd only had the _nerve_ to keep kissing you, and stay by your side, even when my parents told me not to... that could have been me, holding you."

"Do you still want to?" Felix asked, a little more breathily than he intended. His heart was already racing. He wished it wasn't. There was no way, this close, that Sylvain couldn't hear it. Feel it.

Sylvain threaded a hand through Felix's hair, brushing it back. "Only if you want to. Do... do you want to?"

Felix nodded. Sylvain suddenly laughed, shaking his head. "All these years, I could have been kissing you... holding you..."

A faint smile in return. "Yeah. Fucked up, didn't you?"

"Can I kiss you now?" Sylvain asked.

Felix nodded, and Sylvain leaned in, so he was just a hairsbreadth away, and tilted his face to one side. Then Claude walked by.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked, a large stack of books in hand. He must have been making his way from the library. Or to the library. You had no way of knowing with Claude, he kept odd hours. Always working. Relentless.

And the last person either of them wanted to see right now. Felix snapped up straight as a board and pushed Sylvain off him. "We were. Practicing."

 _"Practicing?"_ Claude repeated, then gave a long whistle. "Funny name for it. Well, whatever you're 'practicing,' you better take it inside. I saw Seteth heading this way, and he's not as broadminded as I am when it comes to practicing after lights out."

Sylvain smirked, utterly enchanted by the look of mortification on Felix's face. With some difficulty, he managed to extract Felix's hands from his face, and lured him up the stairs, and dropped him off at his bedroom, with the promise they would continue their 'discussion' tomorrow. When Sylvain tried to leave, like the perfect gentleman he had only just decided to become, Felix grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him inside.


	3. During the War

He no longer knew the rules. He felt out of his depths. He had been in Felix's room before, but not like this. Felix had kissed him before, but never like this. Never with so much fire in his eyes, and hot hands, and... it made Sylvain hesitate, because he could not help remembering this was Felix's room, and he was in Felix's bed. They had study sessions here, where they actually _studied._ Felix had kept him company, listening to him lament while he drank to forget whichever girl had broken his heart that week. Funnily enough, it always worked. The next day, he'd forgotten all about that girl, as he picked his way sheepishly back to his room in yesterday's uniform. Almost as if he wasn't _really_ all that broken up to start with, and just going through the motions, because he wanted an excuse to get so drunk he fell asleep in Felix's bed, or leaning against his shoulder... 

_Funny, that._ This was a lot to process. And it was hard to process, when they were going so _fast._ As soon as the door was closed, Felix grabbed Sylvain by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him into a deep, rough kiss. It was suprising to see Felix like this. Sylvain knew how strong Felix was, despite his small stature, but he had never seen him moved by passion before. He knew how singleminded he was in battle, but to have that focus entirely trained on _him..._ was a lot. It was too much. It took his breath away, even when Felix stopped kissing him and pulled back to look his fill on the poor cavalier he'd rendered speechless. All Sylvain could bring himself to do was stare at Felix was glassy eyes, mouth parted, pupils blown. He nearly fell foward, as soon as Felix let go of him to start undoing his own shirt. He had daydreamed about this, but never thought it would feel... like coming home. Like finding the word for something you've always known, but never knew how to describe.

 _Goddess._ He was staring, but he wasn't saying anything. Felix stopped, freezing in place. "...What's wrong? Do you want to stop?" He asked, cocking his head to one side. It was adorable. He was adorable, and Sylvain adored him. Had always adored him. Everything was falling into place. Sylvain shook his head.

"No, I don't want to stop," he answered, fumbling to find his voice in the dark. Felix had stolen that, too. His voice. His breath. His heart. _The bastard._ "Do... do _you_ want to stop?"

Felix scoffed, then reached out to cup Sylvain's face in his hands and shook his head, a smile stealing across his thin lips. Even in that darkly lit, airless room, there was no mistaking it. Felix was _smiling._

"Are you nervous?" He asked, clearly amused. This was the first time in his life he had ever seen Sylvain tongue-tied.

Sylvain sputtered, then tried to save himself. "What? _Me?_ Who do you think I—" Felix silenced him with a look.

 _"Close your eyes,"_ he whispered, leaning in close to his ear. Sylvain swallowed the rock in his throat and closed his eyes, nodded, as Felix wrapped a hand around his wrist and led him to the bed and set him down on the edge with a light push.

Closing his eyes only made it worse. Sylvain could feel the mattress dip when Felix clambered over it, then a hand on his chest, pushing him down until his back fell against the bed, and his head hit the pillow. A pool of red hair splayed out around him like a halo. Felix pulled off his own shirt, then leaned down to kiss him. He was smiling into each kiss. Sylvain could _feel_ it, taste it. His fingers itched to move forward, to pull him closer and finish undressing him. But Felix was in control here, so he followed his lead.

Felix left a trail of kisses from his neck down to his shoulder. He extended a hand to feel his chest, before he ran it up his neck, to drag him closer. _This doesn't feel real,_ he thought, as he felt Felix's breath warm against his parted, waiting mouth, before his breath was stolen by another kiss. _Any minute now, I'll wake up._ Sylvain caught hold of Felix's hair tie, pulled free his long dark hair, letting it fan over his shoulders, blue-black like a midnight sky. Blindly, he ran his hands through it. Felix dipped down to kiss his collarbone, his chest. His breath hitched, as Felix undid a few buttons of Sylvain's shirt, before his hand dipped lower, and without thinking, Sylvain reached out to stop him.

Felix immediately froze up, lifting his head to meet Sylvain's eyes as he waited for direction. "Am I going too fast?"

"No, I want this, I just... had no idea how much I wanted it, and now... I'm afraid."Felix rolled over onto the bed beside him. He looked beautiful like this, all lithe rolling muscles, long dark silky hair, and shining amber eyes. _"N-not of you!"_ He quickly added, before Felix got the wrong idea. "Just of... what might happen. To us."

Felix was the most important person in his life and he didn't want to lose his best friend just because he didn't know how to have a real relationship. He could have sex or he could have feelings, but he wasn't sure how to have both, and make it last. Dorothea insisted it was either a curse, or self-sabotage. Maybe she was right. Maybe he wanted his previous relationships to fail, because deep down he knew the person he _really_ wanted to be with was always two doors down, or in the training grounds. But now he actually had Felix in bed with him... he found he had no idea how to put to words what he wanted. He was too afraid of fucking this up. 

"Nothing could happen to us," Felix insisted, facing him. His smoked amber eyes were wide but full of sympathy. It was too much. It _hurt_ to look at Felix like this, so sincere and full of feeling, vulnerable in a way he hadn't been since they were children. "We've already been through hell and back, haven't we? Nothing could separate us now, not even death."

He was being _romantic._ He was calling back that dumb oath they'd made as kids. Sylvain smiled, despite himself. A real one this time. A rare thing. He kissed Felix. It made him smile, too. _A miracle! Felix smiling._ He couldn't wait to tell Ingrid. _Can I tell Ingrid?_ He wondered, as he pulled back and opened his eyes to look up at Felix, who gazed back, a broad smile on his face.

 _"Nothing,"_ Sylvain agreed, and kissed him again. The sex was slow, tender. Felix knew exactly what he was doing, even though Sylvain did not, but he quickly forgot his anxiety, too distracted by all the kind, merciful ways Felix was trying to make him feel loved and desired. Usually, Sylvain would be out like a light, but tonight... Sylvain was too restless to sleep. It didn't take Felix long to catch on.

He made a noise as he stirred to life, still spread out over Sylvain. "You're not sleeping," he observed.

Sylvain extended a hand to take up Felix's, and traced shapes across the palm with the short, squared nails of his fingers, trying to work up his resolve.

"No, I'm not." Sylvain confirmed. Felix made another muffled noise, before finding the strength to lift himself up onto his elbows, and open his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's just..." the silence drew out for what might have been days. "What am I going to tell my father?"

Felix grimaced. Sylvain didn't blame him. He was in bed with a beautiful man, what was he doing talking about his father?

"That depends. Are you going through with the engagement?" 

_"No!_ How can you even ask that?! I chose you." He brought Felix's hand to his lips, as if to seal the unspoken promise: _I will always choose you._ "But how am I ever going to tell him about this?" He gestured between the two of them.

"Whatever this is," Felix mumbled with a yawn, as Sylvain turned his hand over so he could kiss the palm. Felix tensed, but didn't move away. "Now what are you doing?"

"Admiring you, Frauldarius!" He tugged on his hand, bringing the unbalanced Felix sharply forward, into his arms. Sylvain leant forward to kiss his neck, the underside of his jaw. "Is that allowed?"

"Do you do this with everyone you take home?" Felix asked, looking sceptical.

"Only you," Sylvain mumbled between kisses, until Felix bobbed back, just out of reach.

"I don't want to be just another one night stand."

"You couldn't be. Oh, _Felix,"_ Sylvain scrambled to sit up on the bed. Felix moved, accordingly, so he was half-raised, eyes locked with Sylvain, partially leaning over him. Sylvain yanked him into a tight hug. Felix made a muffled noise of dissent, but it was too late. Sylvain hooked a leg over his, so there was no escape, and only hugged him tighter. "Blessed Felix. You sweet, sweet idiot..."

 _"You're strangling me!"_ He muttered, struggling, but Sylvain refused to let go.

"You could never be like one of those girls. You're my Felix," he insisted, as if that made everything patently clear, before wrapping his arms around Felix's midsection. The fencer eventually managed to wrangle his head free. "I love kissing you. I love the faces you make. Why haven't we been doing this from the start?"

"Because your parents are evil," Felix shot back, pointedly.

"Right. Right, that explains it. Goddess, you're so beautiful!"

Felix's face went red, wheedling himself out of Sylvain's embrace only to collapse on top of him, leading with his shoulder, in a feeble attempt to crush the redhead. It was like being pummelled with a handful of grapes. He wasn't as sharp when he wasn't covered in his usual paraphenalia.

"Has anyone ever told you how soft your hair is, or how great your thighs are?" Felix made a contrary noise, which only egged Sylvain on. He knew the only reason Felix hated praise was because he wasn't used to it. He was determined to make Felix used to it.

"You never told me what he said."

"Who?"

"Your father. When you left, suddenly. It was because of me, wasn't it?"

"I don't think it was because of you, exactly... he would have been so happy if you'd been a girl! An alliance between House Gautier and Frauldarius would be just what our family needs. But you weren't a girl, so he... he didn't like it. You know how he is. Old fashioned. He thought... it would be better, for both of us, to spend some time apart. Boy, was he wrong."

He remembered the bleak interim years between the hunting party and Felix's arrival at the Monastery. He should have spent them with Felix. He had wanted to go, when he heard about Glenn, but something stopped him, like lead in his boots. His father's words. _If you were a real friend, you wouldn't take advantage of him._ _He doesn't need you, and h_ _e won't want you, once he's found a girl his own age._

The worst part was... he believed him. 

"I'm going to fight your dad," Felix huffed. Sylvain kissed the top of his head, where he'd curled up against Sylvain's chest, pinning him down. He didn't mind. He probably would, eventually, when his entire body got pins and needles, because he had a bad-tempered swordman sprawled across him, but for now... he liked it.

"Not before I do. Goddess, you're just like a cat..." he complained, when Felix adjusted to make himself more comfortable, elbowing him in the face.

"What are we?" Felix asked, once he had settled for the night, drawing Sylvain close as if he were threading a needle, warm against his chest. Sylvain ran a hand through his hair, and tried to sink into this feeling of letting go as he stared up at the ceiling.

"...I can't court you, can I? We've been best friends since we were kids. It would feel weird courting you."

"Maybe it doesn't need to have a name. Maybe... we should just enjoy this while it lasts," Felix suggested, leaning closer, as Sylvain ran a hand up his back. Felix gently caressed Sylvain's face, turning it towards him. Sylvain hated this power Felix held over him, which made every touch feel electric. He drew him into another deep kiss, tugging at Felix's lower lip possessively when he broke away to catch his breath. Like he belonged to him, and only him. Like they were the last two people on the planet. 

They had always been drawn together by something magnetic. Felix, so eager to show off. Sylvain, always there. A shoulder to cry on. A protector from bullies. His rock. No one else saw Sylvain that way, never saw that side of him. And all it took was one kiss, a chaste thing carelessly given, to make the Margrave take Sylvain away. Well, he wasn't going anywhere now.

"I can count your lashes this close."

"Shut up, Sylvain," Felix responded with surprising tenderness.

"Less talking, got it," Sylvain murmurred under his breath. Felix kneed him sharply in the side so that he keeled over, grabbing his stomach. He used an old wrestling trick to turn Sylvain over, so he stood over him on the bed, and clamped down both of Sylvain's arms so he couldn't move. He didn't mind. He just didn't like Felix's bony knee jabbing him in the chest. _"Ow!"_

Felix moved over immediately, gently hooking a hand around Sylvain's ear. "...Did I hurt you?" He asked, the act already up.

 _"You do care!"_ Sylvain shot back, unable to explain the fondness welling up in his breast as anything other than gratitude. An end to so much waiting, so much uncertainty. He was so happy to be here with him. They would figure out what this means later. They had all the time in the world.

* * *

Usually when Sylvain woke first he would quickly skulk back to his room, but this time... he stayed. He didn't even try to leave the bed, enjoying too much the sight of a sleeping, peaceful Felix, with one arm wrapped protectively around his torso. He eventually worked up the courage to card a hand gently through his hair. Felix made some grumbling noises, eyes still closed. As soon as he opened them, to lock with Sylvain's, he jolted sharply awake.

"Sylvain!" Felix barked in surprise.

Sylvain yawned, sleepily. "I'm real," he confirmed. "Do you want me to leave?"

 _"No!_ _No_ , don't go, I just forgot... what time is it?" He asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His hair was a mess. It looked cute. Sylvain would have shared this discovery with him, if he didn't think calling Felix 'cute' would still leave him with a knife in his throat.

"Seminar starts in half an hour," Sylvain hummed, happy to make himself useful even if only as Felix's alarm clock. He tried to clamber over Sylvain and out of bed, but before he could Sylvain snatched hold of his arm and sent him tumbling back.

"Can I have a kiss before you go?" He asked so sweetly Felix could hardly refuse. He stopped resisting long enough to let Sylvain press a kiss to his cheek.

"You have to let me go. Some of us like to be on time," Felix insisted, tsking. Sylvain let go, crossing his arms behind his head, as Felix quickly dressed himself. It was only after he had put on his uniform, sword, and thrown a portfolio messenger bag over his shoulder full of class notes he moved to put on his boots.

"Are you going to creepily watch me dress every morning?" Felix asked, offhandedly, as he did up the laces, without looking up.

"That depends," Sylvain started breezily, before Felix's words hit home and all his confidence gave out from under him. _"Wait._ Every morning? You mean, there will be more mornings?"

Felix rolled his eyes, once he'd finished with his boots, stood up and turned to face Sylvain, who had scrambled upright in bed.

"Last night... you said you wanted me," Felix reminded him, as he walked over to the bed. "If you still want me... I'm right here. You could come back tonight."

"I'd like that," Sylvain confirmed, and Felix's frown turned into a smile. Then he dipped down to kiss him.

"One more for the road. Now... get dressed," he instructed as he pulled away. "Lock up after you leave, and don't tell anyone about this!" He called over his shoulder as he headed for the door, adjusting his bag.

"I love it when you boss my around," Sylvain hummed, earning a terse smile from Felix he tried to conceal as he left the room. It was the closest he could come to saying 'I love you' without scaring Felix away.

After another fifteen minutes of lying in bed, Sylvain threw on his clothes from the night before and darted a few doors down, back to his own room, to get his classnotes and head off to his seminar, fashionably late as always. He waved at Ingrid as soon as he entered the room, but sat as far away from her as possible, in the hope she wouldn't ask him about last night, or Felix. He spent the rest of the day keeping his head down, and his mouth shut, for once too distracted to smile and wink at everyone he passed. He was afraid what would happen tomorrow, when he had to go to the same seminar with Felix. He had no idea how he was supposed to share the same room as Felix and not make it abundantly clear to everyone he was in love with his best friend.

And it _was_ obvious, but... it had _always_ been obvious. They had always been close, always rushed to train and eat together, always murmurring to one another in seminars, snickering in the back of the classroom. To an outside observer, not much had changed. But Felix was smiling more, a dead give away. The rest of the week flitted past, with Sylvain on a high he didn't think he could ever come down from... until the day Felix's father showed up, and Felix retreated to his room to hide.

The first person to actually _see_ Duke Rodrigue Frauldarius was Sylvain. He was on his way to his next seminar, running late as always, with the Monastery grounds nearly empty. He hadn't been looking where he was going, and was surprised to come face-to-face with the Duke. It had been several years since he had last seen him, but there was no mistaking him. Long dark-blue hair like Felix, but wavy, which fell about his shoulders. Different eyes, though. Felix had his mother's.

As soon as he realised who he had run into, Sylvain froze up, eyes wide. Felix hadn't warned him his father was coming, which meant... he must not have known. Sylvain suddenly forgot all about his seminar. All he could think about was warning Felix.

"Please get out of my way, I need to see my son," the Duke insisted, moving to side-step Sylvain and continue down the narrow pathway. Sylvain, who was acting entirely on instinct now, also side-stepped, meeting him halfway.

 _"Wh-what about?"_ Sylvain stammered out, as if he were still a child, terrified of Felix's dad, and not a good two heads taller than him, now. 

"This doesn't concern you, Gautier."

_Jokes on you. If it involves Felix, it concerns me.  
_

The Duke circled around him, walking in the direction of the dorms.

 _"He doesn't want to see you!"_ Sylvain shouted, without thinking. It was too late to be tactful. It was enough to stop Rodrigue in his tracks. He turned his head, regarding the redheaded cavalier with a sad smile.

"You think I don't know that?" He asked. "After Glenn's death... I said some things I shouldn't have. I was so concerned with keeping my promise to the late King, I neglected to see what was right in front of me..." Wait, Felix's dad had made a pact, too? _With the King?_ Did it run in the family or something? Sylvain swallowed hard, eyes falling to the ground. "I know you are trying to protect my son. I respect that. Felix should be grateful he has a friend like you, looking after his interests. But I hope you can see that I am only trying to do what's best for him, and for my country. That's why I am here, and why I need to see him. I know ignoring a problem won't make it go away. Do you understand?"

Silently, Sylvain nodded his head. Rodrigue patted his shoulder before heading towards the dormitories. Sylvain knew Felix would be mad he hadn't tried harder to stop him, but he also knew something Felix did not: his father loved him. And he felt, for the first time since he had seen Felix with someone else at that bar, a sting of jealousy. He wished his parents still cared enough to look for him when he didn't want to be found, but so far, only Felix had ever been brave enough. 

* * *

While Felix took to his room, Sylvain took to studying. He hardly left the library, asking Linhardt and Annette for tutoring for the next exam. He knew he would have to pass if he wanted to stay in the same class, and continue going on the same missions, as Felix. He could not afford to fall behind. He wrote a letter to his father saying the engagement was off, because he needed to 'focus on his studies.' After he graduated he could worry about finding a wife. He was in no hurry to graduate. Instead, he spent the time he wasn't studying for exams, trying to come up with a solution to his inheritance problem.

He had overheard Edelgard and Hubert talking about reforming the Crest system. He was pretty sure Claude shared her sentiments, but Claude always sided with the underdog. He thought of going to one of them, if they could help him find a way for House Gautier to continue without the same endless cycle of bloodshed which had kept it alive this long. He wasn't exactly proud of his family's legacy. If the future of House Gautier rested on his shoulders... he wanted to make it a future he could stomach. He wanted to make it a future where no one was willing to risk their _humanity_ for a change to wield something as cursed as the Lance of Ruins.

But thinking about the future was dangerous, because it inevitably led to him imagining what a future with Felix might look like. Growing old together. Running their houses together, side by side. Did Felix even want that? It's what conventional couples do, but they were hardly a conventional couple. They didn't even go on dates. They mostly just took turns hiding in eachother's rooms, talking for hours or eating and making out. Except when they found a quiet place on campus to rendezvous, when Sylvain would kiss him beneath the stars. Felix looked so happy in those moments, it made Sylvain's heart hurt just to look at him. He just didn't know how to tell him. He wasn't good with feelings, the way Felix wasn't good with words. He didn't know what to do with them.

So instead, he locked himself away in the library, to study magic, and Crests, and the history of House Gautier, as he tried to come up with a way to stay with Felix after they graduated.

Linhardt was happy to help him with his Crest research, even though he could not for the life of him figure out why Sylvain had suddenly become so preoccupied with Crests. That is, until Felix turned up at the library one day. Linhardt had rarely seen Sylvain enter the library, but he had _never_ seen Felix step foot inside the library.

Linhardt narrowed his eyes, staring down the frazzled swordsman the minute he did. "You're looking for Sylvain, aren't you?"

"No. What? No. Why would I be looking for Sylvain?"

"He just left."

"Wait, Sylvain was here? Why was Sylvain here?"

"You said you weren't looking for him."

 _"Because I was looking for you!"_ Felix groaned.

Linhardt raised a brow, considering him. "...What do you want with me?"

"Teach me how to do healing magic," he demanded gruffly.

"Did Byleth send you?"

"No. I just... want to know."

"Why the sudden interest in magic?"

"We do a lot of fighting. People get hurt on the frontlines, and there's not always time to get a healer before... I just need to know if someone gets hurt, I can help. I need to know I can do _something,_ if..." his voice went very small. "If it happens again."

Linhardt was still staring him down, suspiciously. But he nodded his head, satisfied that Felix's requst was sincere. He pulled out and opened a textbook on Faith magic, then beckoned the swordsman over.

"What, no time like the present, right?" Linhardt had replied, when he caught sight of Felix's dumbfounded expression. "Besides, you look like you're in a hurry. I know you have a big mission coming up. That's what's worrying you, right?" Felix didn't reply, but he avoided Linhardt's eye. "A basic healing spell won't cure anything more serious than minor cuts and bruises, but it's a start. Don't worry, it's not complicated. I've already taught it to Caspar."

"Because you were worried about him?" Felix guessed.

"I realise you may find this hard to believe, but I worry about all of you."

After learning to draw a few glyphs and mastering the equation, Felix had his first healing spell down. Anything more advanced, Linhardt warned, would take time. He had to master the basics first. Maybe find someone to practice on. A kind of reverse training dummy.

"Sylvain might be a suitable test subject," he suggested, quietly. Felix shot him a long look.

"Have you been giving him private lessons, too?"

"No, I've been helping him research. He's interested in Crests."

"Since when?" Felix baulked.

"Beats me. Why not try asking him yourself?"

Felix mumbled another half-hearted ' _thanks_ ' under his breath before gathering up the books Linhardt lent him and heading for the door, swords at his side jangling.

 _"And next time, could you not bring an entire armoury into my beautiful library!_ " He called after him, before the doors fell shut. _"You might damage one of the books!"_

* * *

Ingrid caught Felix sitting alone in the dining hall one day, surrounded by several stacks of books. She waited for the opportune moment, when his mouth was already full, to sit down in front of him, and steal a book off the top of his stack. He made a disgruntled noise around the fish he was eating.

"Don't touch those! I need them!" He finally said, once his mouth was no longer full.

"Faith _and_ reason magic? You really are an overachiever. What happened to _'Ingrid, all I need are swords. My only love is swords. When I die, bury me surrounded by ceremonial swords I made the Professor buy because I insisted they were 'necessary supplies'?_ "

"They are! And I'm not! It was Byleth's idea," he snapped, clinging protectively to the textbook she'd upset. He was so close to grasping the next spell, he did not want his notes to get lost or ruined before he had the chance to practice it on an actual, living subject.

"Did you forget we have a seminar together? Byleth said you need to focus on reason and bows. Nothing about faith magic. Linhardt's giving you private lessons." His jaw fell open. He had not exactly sworn Linhardt to secretly, but for some dumb reason he still thought he could trust him. "Annette saw you the other day. You didn't see her. She said you looked like a man possessed. Felix, what's possessed you? Next you'll tell me you're joining the choir!"

She snatched another one of his books, started absently paging through it. He reached forward to take it back and she pulled it just out of reach.

"If this is a trick to make me talk about feelings again..."

"Why are you suddenly so interested in faith magic, and why is Sylvain suddenly so interested in passing his exams?"

Felix sighed, defeated. He knew that Ingrid was only interrogating him now because she was a friend, and had his best interest at heart, however much he hated it.

"In the last battle... Sylvain got hit pretty badly, and Mercedes and Linhardt were nowhere to be found, and I... I felt so _useless..._ I want to know how to help my friends, if they get hurt."

_"Because...?"  
_

_"Because."_

_"You care about us,_ Felix Hugo Frauldarius!"

"I love my friends and I don't want them to die."

"Good job! You can have your library book back."

"Thanks," he huffed, then resumed moving his food around his plate.

"I'm very impressed, Felix. It's not easy, being a master sage _and_ the greatest swordmaster in Fodlan, but you're well on your way."

"I'm not good at magic. I know I'm not. It doesn't... come naturally to me, the way it comes to Annette, and Mercedes, and even Sylvain. But I eventually learned it, because I kept practing anyway. I thought I could learn healing the same way I learned Thoron."

"I'm lucky I don't need it! I've got a flying horse." He smirked at her, and she smirked back, scrunching up her nose. "Speaking of flying horses... I ran into Sylvain in the stables. He said he was looking for you."

Felix pushed the books aside and resumed eating. "What did he want?" He asked, trying to sound uninterested.

"To kiss your stupid, grumpy face! Probably. This really is priceless, you know that? Never thought the two of you would end up together."

It was enough to make Felix squirm. He hadn't even told her yet, she just knew, because of course she knew. Because Sylvain had to stare at him 24/7, and kiss him when no one was looking, and leer and wink in seminars, and make it obvious, even though Felix had declared any public displays of affection off limits.

"We're not... _together,_ exactly. It's complicated."

"Did you tell him you love him?"

"Not yet," he mumbled through his dinner.

"What did you do, skip talking and go straight to boning?"

He kept eating, but faster. "Felix Hugo Frauldarius, did you jump him?!"

She pretended to be scandalised. He went red to the tips of his ears, forced down the food, then shoveled his books into his bag and moved to his feet. Ingrid remained seated, only watched him with mock offense.

"If you breathe a word of this to anyone so help me I willI haunt you," he snapped, before marching off in the direction of the stables, where Sylvain may or may not have been waiting for him. Turns out, he was.

"My father replied!" Sylvain announced as soon as he caught sight of Felix.

Felix immediately stopped in his tracks. "Good or bad news?" 

"He said he was willing to wait until I graduated before marrying me off, but you should get a load of his tone when he talks about 'his surprise' over 'my sudden interest in academia.' Now I have to pass that exam just to see the look on his face..."

"Which exam?"

"To become a paladin, then a dark knight. I have it all planned out. Byleth says I have a 'hidden talent' for magic." He danced his fingers through the air, to symbolise casting a spell. Felix grimaced. The only magic he had seen him perform so far were fire spells, and those always worried him. Fire was a hard element to control and direct. At least Felix's lightning spells were precise.

Sylvain beckoned him over, close to the stalls, where he was feeding his young mare apple slices from his hand. Felix took out from his coat a box of wrapped chocolates, and shoved them unceremoniously towards Sylvain.

"Take these."

"What are 'these'?"

"Sweets. Leonie thought you'd like them."

"Oh. Huh. Thanks!" He broke the ribbon and opened the box, popped one in his mouth. Chocolate with a caramel filling. "They're delicious!"

He was smiling delightedly. He offered Felix one, to be polite, but Felix refused, like always. He was wearing a heavier expression than always, though, which did not seem uplifted by Sylvain's good news.

"Linhardt says you're interested in Crests."

Sylvain's smile faltered. "What?"

"Are you..." Felix closed his eyes, raising a hand to cover them. "Do you want to get rid of your Crest?"

"No. I didn't think that was even possible. Can I?" He tilted his head to one side, wide-eyed with astonishment. He had one more chocolate, than tucked the box away in his satchel.

"I don't know, but... I heard Lysithea talking to Linhardt about an... operation. I thought you might be interested."

He still looked confused. "In getting rid of my Crest?"

"You've always hated it."

Sylvain nodded. "True, but I don't know anything about an operation, trust me. If I was even considering something as serious as that... you'd be the first to know. I sleep easy enough knowing my Crest is dying with me."

"Are you... thinking of switching classes, at all?" He had seen Sylvain talking to Claude and Edelgard. He hadn't thought much of it, until he learned from Linhardt he was researching Crests, and he started connecting the dots.

"That's what's worrying you? _Felix..."_ Sylvain murmurred, voice almost breaking, before stumbling a few steps forward to cup the side of Felix's face tenderly. "I was trying to come up with a way we could stay together, without my dumb Crest getting in the way. I wouldn't leave you behind to join another class. Not unless... you wanted to join another class. Did you...?"

Felix shook his head, but reached out to take hold of Sylvain's hand. When he still look unconvinced, he kissed him, as if to prove a point.

"I don't care where we go, so long as it's together. If you think Edelgard or Claude have a better plan for Fodlan's future..."

"I do. Honestly, I do. But it feels wrong to turn our back on Farghus, and abandon our friends. I just... need to know the world we are trying to build won't be one where your entire worth is decided by which family you're born in to, or whether or not you were born with a Crest."

"Whichever class we're in, we're doing our part. That's two Crests out of the running," Felix joked. Sylvain, overcome with fondness, leant in to press a quick kiss between his eyes, making Felix close them as he slid closer.

"You know, we could still..." Sylvain started, once Felix pulled away, but he stopped midsentence, eyes widening, when he heard a loud squeak. "What was that?"

"Sounded like a mouse?" Felix guessed.

Sylvain examined his horse's stall, but couldn't see any mice. He walked a few steps forward, looked down the alleyway leading past the side of the stables, and found Marianne among the boxes of grain, hay, and alfalfa, trying to cling to the wall.

"I found the mouse! Hello, Marianne. Did Claude send you to spy for him?"

She squeaked again, as Felix trudged a few heavy steps forward to join them.

 _"N-no, I am al-w-ways in the st-stables on a wed-wednesday... I didn't see or hear anything!"_ She stammered, hand on heart. Felix shot Sylvain a long look, but Sylvain simply shrugged.

"Promise you won't tell the others you caught me kissing Felix and I'll let you go with your life." Felix made a noise of protest but Sylvain waved him away. "Look, I know what Hilda is like, if she gets wind of this I will never live it down."

 _"I swear I won't say a word!"_ Marianne exclaimed, weaving her hands together.

Sylvain's smile softened. "Good. I trust you."

"...Is it true? What you were saying about removing Crests? Not that I was listening!" She snapped upright, eyes wide as saucers.

"Why do you want to remove your crest, Marianne?" Sylvain asked gently, lowering his voice.

She hung her head. "Because... my Crest is cursed." 

"Cursed. What do you mean, cursed?" Felix interjected, confused.

Marianne lowered her eyes, started toying with a pendant around her neck. "It's a long story..."

"We shouldn't force her to tell us if she doesn't want to!" Sylvain insisted, before turning his attention back on the blue-haired woman before him. "Marianne, I am already doing research into my Crest, how about I help you with yours, too? If we work together, along with Linhardt... we are sure to come up with something to help you."

"I don't want to be an-an imp-position to either of you... especially when you two only came here to be alone, and I g-got in the way!"

"You're not in the way, Marianne! We aren't going to change the way Crests control our destiny if we don't take those destinies into our own hands, right? We are on the same side, even if we aren't in the same class. We have to work together."

"Agreed," Felix added, as if his imput made any difference. He had never given much thought to his Crest. He appreciated the advantage it gave him in battle, but... he had known for many years now that his Crest was going to die with him, and that was a point on which he refused to be swayed. His father was, thankfully, not as pushy as Sylvain's, but he still seemed convinced that sooner or later Felix would change his mind. He wasn't sure how he'd take the news that was never going to happen, especially now he had Sylvain.

They would signal the end of an era. The beginning of something new. 

* * *

"Marianne thinks she's a werewolf," Felix announced when he walked into the room a few days later. He was holding a bottle of wine.

Marianne had finally opened up—to him, of all people. He didn't understand it, either.

Sylvain lowered his textbook. "Okay, have to say... that's not what I expected."  
  
Felix took a swig of wine straight from the bottle.  
  
"Turns out we have to fight her great, great, great uncle Maurice, who is also a werewolf, to prove she's free of this 'curse.'"  
  
"Do you know where to find this guy?" Felix nodded. "So... when are we leaving?"  
  
"You want to fight a _werewolf?"_  
  
"I want to make our friends happy. If that means fighting another monster... so be it. What are friends for?" Sylvain asked, offhandedly, before fetching an axe and heading for the stables. So he meant _now_. He meant sneaking away now, in the middle of the night, to fight a demon from Marianne's past.  
  
 _Goddess_. Sylvain really was infuriating sometimes. _What are friends for?_ Why was he always in such a rush to get himself killed, protecting others? Not that Felix would have him change for anything. He loved that about him. He had such a big heart, he just hated to let anyone see it. In some ways, he counted himself lucky, to be the first one to get this close.

* * *

Sylvain eventually succeeded in luring Felix out of hiding with the promise of sake. Felix followed him out of the dorms and into the courtyard, stealing a swig before he gave Sylvain permission to kiss him. _"I can't be sober for this,"_ he'd insisted, and Sylvain rolled his eyes, thanked him. Took back his sake. They laid down in the tall grass, looked up at the stars overheard. Sylvain pointed out a constellation.

"That one's the holy knight... see the horse rearing up on its hind legs, with its rider?"

"No I don't see the horse its just a bunch of lights," Felix complained, but he moved in closer, so they were lying shoulder to shoulder, to get a better look. Sylvain liked that Felix had moved closer of his own accord, and could not help smiling, but tried not to look _too_ pleased just because Felix had brushed their shoulders together. He was more proud of convincing Felix to lie down on the dirt with him. Sylvain pointed out a few other stars, and tried to explain how you can navigate by them, because apparently Felix was useless when it came to astronomy, but he didn't get far in his lecture before Felix went so quiet and still Sylvain wondered if he had fallen asleep, and brought himself up on his elbows.

"Are you still awake, Fe?" He asked, looking fondly down at the swordsman resting with his eyes closed.

"Course I am. Not all of us can fall asleep with bugs in our hair." He opened his eyes in thin, narrow, amber slits, staring down Sylvain.

"How long have you known you liked guys?" The redheaded knight asked, not dignifying Felix's complaint with a response.

 _"Syl-vain._ I've had a crush on you since I was eight years old. How long do you think?" Felix shot back, with a sour look.

He said that so easily, now. As if it were nothing. No big deal. As if loving Sylvain were the easiest thing in the world.

Sylvain laid back, leaning his head against crossed arms, chin raised up to the sky, and gave a long, drawn-out whistle. "Wow. That long. Really, that long?"

That's what really floored Sylvain. How had Felix _known_ since they were kids, and why did it take Sylvain so long to catch up? He knew he liked being close to Felix, liked sparring with him, liked the way he smelled. He even knew he liked _kissing_ him, and still managed to remain oblivious for... most of his life to the very simple fact that he was hopelessly in love with his best friend.

Felix scoffed. "Don't make that face."

"What face?"

"Like you're laughing at me!"

"Trust me, I'm not laughing. Felix?" He turned on his side and took hold of Felix's wrist, locking eyes with him. "Look at me. I'm not laughing. I'd never laugh at you."

Felix went red. If he was aware of the fact, it only made him more embarassed. He wanted to dissolve into thin air.

"How long have you known?" Felix asked, because that's how conversations work, apparently. If someone asks you a question, it's polite to throw it back. But Sylvain just made a face, let go of Felix's wrist and rolled onto his back. "...Did you know before I kissed you?"

"Not really," Sylvain admitted. "I just knew I liked you."

"Along with every single girl in the Monastery."

"Yeah, I bet they all think you're hot stuff."

"I meant _you_ like every single girl in the Monastery, idiot."

"I don't. Not really. I just went to them because I was too blind to realise what I really wanted was right in front of me."

He liked those girls well enough. He'd had fun. But none of them excited him the way Felix did. None of them made him nervous, or stumble over his words, or his hands shake, because he was sick with desire, the way Felix did. He didn't fantasise about growing old with them.

"So... when did you realise?" Felix asked, lacing his hand with Sylvain's.

"In the Goddess Tower. I've never wanted to kiss you so hard in my life."

"You wanted to kiss me in the Goddess Tower?" Felix sounded surprised.

"I wanted to kiss you _everywhere,"_ Sylvain countered with a leer. "But the final nail in the coffin was seeing you in someone else's arms. I couldn't stand that. It made it so much more real, then when you were just... you know, on your pedestel, impossible to reach, looking down on all of us. If I had known back in the Goddess Tower that I had a _chance_... maybe I wouldn't have felt so hopeless. But at the time... it didn't even feel possible that you could like me back."

"Ingrid was right. We're both idiots," Felix concluded, before kissing him. The moonlight brought out the blue in his hair, and made the amber of his eyes dance like a flame.

"I want to stay like this forever," Sylvain murmurred as Felix pulled away. He quickly returned to lying shoulder-to-shoulder beside him.

"Shut up. It's just a kiss," he huffed, trying to sound indignant.

As if it were an insult to be wanted, and cherished.

Sylvain took his hand, pressed it.

"Forever is a long time."

"I know."

"Don't you... miss them? All those girls?"

"What's there to miss? I've got you." Another quick kiss, this time on Felix's forehead. "My hands are full."

Before they could finish their conversation, a bell rang out loudly. Something was wrong. Felix jolted upright, hand going for his sword.

"Slow down, Killer. Lets wait until we know what's wrong," Sylvain cautioned, stopping his arm before he had drawn his weapon from its sheath.

They ran to the main meeting hall. Outside, on the steps, they ran into Dmitri. He was being shadowed by Dedue.

"What happened? Is the Monastery under attack?" Felix asked. Dmitri shook his head.

"The Empire has declared war on the Church of Seiros, and by extension... the Kingdom."

The colour went out of Sylvain, as Dedue went on to explain the logistics. He looked as pale as a sheet when Felix turned back to meet his eyes and walk him back to their dorms. He dropped him off at his room. Sylvain grabbed his wrist this time, tugged him inside. He didn't want to be alone right now. He knew he would spiral if he was.

War had been officially declared. They had seen it coming... yet somehow it had still managed to catch them off guard.

"It feels a little bit like the entire universe is conspiring to keep us apart, doesn't it?" Felix observed later that night as they lay in bed. He was on his back, head on the pillow. Sylvain was resting his head on Felix's midsection, using him as a pillow. Absently, Felix stroked a hand through his bright red hair.

"I don't want to be apart," Sylvain complained.

"They're sending you to the Empire and me to the Capitol."

"So? It's only for a few weeks, until our forces regroup..."

"If we survive."

"We _will_ survive. We have to. You gave me your word," Sylvain insisted, reaching out blindly to take up Felix's hand and press it in the dark. Felix appreciated the gesture, but he still turned him out at the end of the night.

 _"Why do we always have such terrible timing?"_ Sylvain wondered, out loud, as he bid Felix goodbye. His swordsman handed him what was left of his sake to 'keep him warm.' Sylvain didn't immediately return to his room. Instead, he took a long walk, to bask in the moonlight, and clear his head. The sooner this war was over, the sooner they could be together for good. And he would do everything in his power to see that happen.

☆☆☆

"You're alive," Sylvain said, when he opened his door five years later to find Felix standing sheepishly on his doorstep.

Felix leveled him an even look.

"You sound surprised."

An understatement. Sylvain was on the verge of tears.

"I am! Felix, its been years since I last heard from you! I thought you were dead!"

"Ingrid sent me a letter. She is organising a party to track down the boar. You were on the way."

"Please, come inside..."

"I'm not staying."

Sylvain's face visibly fell. Felix must have noticed, because he was quick to add, more softly: "Come with me. Our friends are waiting. We cannot win this war without you."

Sylvain swallowed hard, nodded. "I'll go get my lance... are you sure you don't want to come inside? You must be exhausted after riding all this way!"

Felix hung his head, going a different colour. Or maybe it was only the cold.

"I can't. I know if I go inside... I won't want to leave," he admitted. Sylvain wasn't sure what to make of that, beyond the fact it made his heart ache. He was so tempted to cut the distance between them and embrace his friend, but something held him back. The fear he would pull away, or get angry, or... that too much time had passed, and too much had changed, and the man standing before him now was not the same Felix he had known, and loved, in the Monastery.

"Can I... hug you?" He asked meekly. Felix hesitated for a moment, then nodded his head with apparent reluctance. Sylvain hugged him with great vehemence. Felix didn't hug back, but he closed his eyes and let himself be hugged. Sylvain took what scraps he could, and was euphoric. Felix was alive. Felix was alive, and he had come for him.

 _"Felix? Is he here?!"_ He heard a familiar voice call out, before lifting his head, pulling away.

"You found Ingrid already?"

A lopsided grin. "Ingrid found me."

"Oh. I'm glad. I will just... get my lance, and Belle. Wait here." He disappeared inside, and wasted no time finding his armour and lance. He left a note with a servant to tell his father he was going to look for Dmitri and join the war effort. He couldn't work up the nerve to tell him to his face. But there was no way he could refuse to join his friends now when they needed him most.

When he had gotten all his things together, he went back outside, pack slung over his shoulder and a sheepish smile plastered over his face, a big change from his usual wolfish one, as he met the eyes of Felix, who was on the ground, and Ingrid, who had not gotten off her horse. He threw down his bags, asked the others to watch them as he ran to get his horse from the stables. He hoped, beyond hope, that Felix would ask to come with him, but... he didn't ask. He came back, leading Belle by her bridle, threw some supplies over the back of her saddle, before putting a foot in the stirrup and yanking himself over and into the saddle, and gathering up his reins. It was not until he was already on Belle's back before Felix finally felt brave enough to take a step closer.

"What did your father say?" He asked.

Sylvain gave an easy shrug. "We'll find out when he reads my letter. Come on, we're wasting valuable sunlight!"

Felix stretched out a hand to touch Belle's neck, steadying the horse even as Sylvain tried to edge her on with his heels. 

"Are you sure you want to leave like this?" He asked, deadly serious, looking Sylvain in the eyes and holding his gaze.

"What else am I going to do? If I don't join this fight, I won't have any title or land left to inherit."

Felix knew that wasn't the real reason he was joining this fight. He knew Sylvain was being insincere. But if that's what he told his father... well, it might placate him.

He gave a curt nod, removed his hand from Belle's neck. "I just want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into."

"You mean the part where I might not come back?" He swallowed hard, nodded his head. "I know... but if I don't go, how can I make sure my two best friends will?"

Felix couldn't argue with that, as much as he wanted to.

"Just don't do anything stupid," he cautioned brusquely, and quickly turned away, as if afraid either Ingrid or Sylvain might read into his tone or face the genuine concern he was trying so hard to hide.

"Aww. You did miss me, didn't you?" Sylvain chimed in a too-sugary voice, before digging his heels into Belle's side and edging her on, as Felix mounted his horse with a scowl, and quickly took the lead of their little patrol, despite being nowhere near as at home on horseback as Ingrid and Sylvain.

It would take nearly five days riding to make it to the Monastery, where they planned to meet up with the rest of the Blue Lions Ingrid was able to track down. Surely, in all that time travelling together, he would find an excuse to talk, alone, to Felix.

Only he didn't. Ingrid was always there, always wide awake, always standing in the middle of them. Even when they camped for the night, collected in a circle around a small bonfire, she scarcely slept. She had insomnia, ever since Dmitri and Dedue went missing. She was worried about them. She had bad dreams. Felix was the opposite. As soon as they stopped riding, and finished dinner, he was in his bedroll, fast asleep, or pretending to be. He was probably just as upset as Ingrid about Dmitri's disappearance, sadness just looked different on Felix than it looked on Ingrid. Sylvain had noticed it after Glenn died. After Rodrigue visited. Felix withdrew, he slept more, he went silence and threw all his energy into fighting so he didn't have to think or talk about it.

Sylvain was almost tempted to ask Felix to spar with him, as they camped in a forest around a small fire, shivering in the cold. But he could read from the way Felix had been avoiding him this entire time he wouldn't want that. Eventually, after Ingrid had interrupted them for the 16th time that day, it clicked that they were conspiring together. Of course they were. They kept _looking_ at each other and not saying anything. Finally, one night, after Felix was "asleep" and Ingrid was having seconds of their stew, he cornered her.

"What gives?" He asked, a little more brusquely than he intended.

She gave him a confused look as she finished chewing, then cleared her throat. "Excuse me?"

"Why won't you let me talk to Felix?"

"You talk to Felix every day."

"For five to ten seconds, when I ask him to hand over the cooking pan so I can make dinner, yeah. A brilliant conversationalist, that Felix."

"He's never been good at talking," she tried to explain, as if it would have somehow escaped his notice that his best friend since he was nine years old was 'standoffish.'

"But why is it every time I try to say two words to Felix, you always interrupt?"

She sighed, looked into the fire. 

"Alright, we may have talked. Felix only agreed to pick you up on one condition: I make sure he isn't left alone with you."

Sylvain tried not to look as hurt as he felt to learn it hadn't been Felix's idea to pick him up after all. It had been Ingrid's idea, and he only agreed under duress. He had _conditions._

"What does he think I'll do? Stab him because he never returned my letters?"

"I don't think... he thought you'd say yes, in the first place. But you did, and you weren't mad, and... I don't know. I think that threw him? He expected you to be mad."

"Why would I be mad?!"

"He didn't write for five years. He didn't even say goodbye. He became a mercenary, and you... went back to working for your Dad. I think he thought... you'd either be angry at him, or forget all about him, and he'd show up to find you moved on years ago, got married, had two kids."

"But I didn't move on."

"I don't think he prepared for that."

"So the reason he's avoiding me... is because he _wanted me_ to forget all about him?"

"You hugged him. You cried all over his armour. He's just... recovering from the shock, I think. It's been five years since anyone's done that. Give him time."

Sylvain nodded his head, swallowed hard. Joined Ingrid in watching the flames, because it was easier to have this conversation if he wasnt looking her in the eyes. "What if... we don't have time?"

"Five years is awhile. You can't expect everything to go back to normal, just like that. People change. Be patient. What he needs right now, more than anything... is a friend."

"Nothing's changed how I feel about him, Ingrid. I still love him."

Ingrid gave him a long look, inspecting him closely. He looked sincere. That was the worst part.

"You should have told him five years ago."

_"He shouldn't have disappeared off the face of Fodlan five years ago!"_

"I think.... seeing you again is a lot for him. Just... be patient, give him time... I'm sure he'll come around."

Sylvain agreed to give Felix as much time and space as he needed, which made things easier on Ingrid for the rest of their journey. She didn't have to babysit Felix, now that she trusted Sylvain to handle him with kid gloves. That didn't stop Felix from looking utterly betrayed every time Ingrid deserted them to have an early night or agreed to watch camp and their supplies while Felix and Sylvain hunted for food together. But Sylvain never asked Felix what happened during those five years, and Felix never asked him. Instead, they talked about what mattered. Travelling, hunting, fighting. The friends they missed.

Once, while hunting, Felix made a joke about how hopeless Sylvain was with a bow, and Sylvain shot back that Felix still hadn't learned how to ride a horse or fight while wearing anything heavier than leather armour.

"I'm sorry the enemy can't hear me coming a mile away, is that what you want me to say?"

 _"Finally, vindication!"_ Sylvain replied with a grin.

Felix went quiet after that, gave Sylvain a long look.

"Did you tell anyone else you were leaving?" He finally asked, as casually as he could. But after riding together for five days, a personal question that had to do with anything other than Sylvain's eating habits, dress, or equestrian abilities, caught him off guard. 

"...Like who? The dogs?"

"Like your fiancee."

"My... fiancee?" Sylvain echoed, going hoarse.

"Ingrid told me you never married, but I know you. I'm sure you have someone lined up."

"I don't have a finacee, Felix."

His head clicked up, expression easy to read. _"Why not?"  
_

_Because I'm still in love with you. Because I don't see anyone else. Because if I ever got married, it would be to you. And if for some cruel, twisted reason, you died first, I would never remarry, because no one else could ever hope to hold a candle to you._

Sylvain thought, but didn't say, because he remembered Ingrid's words. Felix needed time. What Sylvain was trying to do now was rebuild their friendship and trust, before he even thought about making a move. But it was hard, when Felix looked at him like that, with his heart on his sleeve and wide eyes. He wanted so badly to kiss that parted mouth, stop the tears that stood in his eyes.

The moment passed. Felix scoffed, turned his horse away, and his back to Sylvain, drove him forward with his heels.

"Don't ask me to believe you've stayed... unattached... for five years, Gautier. I can't picture you as a monk."

"What can I say?" He shot back with his signature smirk. "You're a hard act to follow."

Thankfully Felix caught sight of Ingrid before he could dignify his comment with a response. She was waving at them. She had caught sight of Ashe and Petra in the distance, but she had also caught sight of raiders.

"I hope you've at least spent some of that time training," Felix remarked in a low whisper as he got off his horse, tying it to a nearby tree with the bulk of their supplies. They would need to be quiet to make it through these bandits who outnumbered them. They would be easier to take on, only two or three at a time.

"You're talking to House Gautier's most attractive and affordable form of pest control. I fight monsters every day." As if to prove a point, he drew his _Lance of Ruin_ and watched it glint with light, activated by his Crest.

 _At least they're good for something,_ Felix had commented the first time he saw Sylvain wield the _Lance of Ruin_ after Miklan fell.

 _Yeah_ , Sylvain had thrown back, jokingly. _Getting yourself killed._

☆☆☆

Once the gang was back together, they had to work out their new travelling arrangment. Felix wasted no time cornering Ashe.

"Share a tent with me," he snapped. It was a question, but it sounded like an order.

 _"Oh,"_ was all Ashe replied, looking startled.

"You can say no. Are you saying no?"

"No, I'd be happy to! I'm just surprised you'd come to me. I thought you'd ask Sylvain, or Ingrid..."

His first choice had been Ingrid, but if he shared a tent with Ingrid, he knew people would talk. If he shared a tent with Sylvain... he knew Sylvain would talk. So he decided Ashe was the safest option.

"Why would I ask Syvlain or Ingrid?"

"You three used to be inseparable, and after you left, _Sylvain...!"_

He kept trailing off. Why did he keep trailing off?

"What happened to Sylvain after I left?"

"He... didn't take it well."

"He didn't take it well," Felix echoed. "What does that mean?"

"Don't make me say it! Sylvain was always hung up on you. He was inconsolable after you left."

 _"Inconsolable,"_ Felix repeated flatly. "Are we talking about the same Sylvain?" He could not put those two words together for some reason. He knew Sylvain wasn't the happy, confident person he pretended to he, but... he still could not imagine him _inconsolable._

"He barely ate or slept or went out, stopped chasing women... all he did was train."

Huh. That was news. Why was that news? Why did no one tell him?

"Why didn't Ingrid or Mercedes say something? Why didn't the Professor?!"

"You'd left. No one could find you for... months. Maybe longer. At first we thought you went home, then Byleth announced you'd left to become a mercenary, and left behind an address to reach you if we needed. Sylvain had already graduated from the Monastery and been called back by his father then. Someone had to defend the Gautier borders, and the Margrave was getting too old to do it himself."

"But Ingrid told him, didn't she?"

"She told him you ran off to become a mercenary, but said she didn't know where. She didn't want to lose both of you, so soon after... so soon."

Felix parted his mouth, closed it. No wonder Sylvain had been in tears when he showed up on his doorstep. He probably thought he was a ghost. He probably thought Felix had joined those mercenaries because he had a deathwish, and not because he refused to go home and be his father's trained dog. But when he heard news that Dmitri and the Professor were still alive, and wanted to get the Blue Lions back together to take on the Empire... well, he couldn't remain neutral any longer. He had to pick a side, so naturally he picked the one his friends were on.

"Do you want to share a tent or don't you?"

"I'd love to, Felix!" 

Ashe made a surprisingly good tentmate. He was respectful and quiet. He did have a habit of staying up late into the night reading, but he kept the light dim. He mostly read the same chivalric knight tales Felix, Sylvain, Ingrid, and Glenn used to read together. The tales Ingrid still did. Ingrid came by to visit Ashe as often as she came to visit Felix. They exchanged books and notes. It was strange, how much closer the other Blue Lions had gotten in his absence. It hurt more than he cared to admit, to see how close everyone in the party had become, who hadn't run off into a self-imposed exile.

He was still ignoring Sylvain, but it was getting harder every day. Sometimes Ingrid would nudge his shoulder and insist 'they should talk,' but Felix had no idea what to say, now. Too much had changed. They were at war. One or both of them might die. This was no place to rekindle a romance he had worked so hard to move on from. But he couldn't forgive Sylvain for _not_ moving on, for not trying to, even when he thought Felix was a ghost.

You couldn't bring himself to admit that felt an awful lot like being loved, even if Sylvain only loved a memory of him. But the reality remained: five years had passed. What if he didn't like the man Felix had become? He was harder, now. He had more bruises, more scars. He had killed people. He would have to kill more, before this war was over. He was not sure he was still someone capable of loving, and being loved. And he was too afraid to find out, if that meant losing Sylvain all over again. He found it easier to make peace with the thought Sylvain was alive and well, married with five children defending the Dukedom, far away from the frontlines, then the idea he might die fighting alongside him.

He swallowed the rock in his throat and drank up the dregs of the stale tea Mercedes had made him earlier that day. Maybe Sylvain could be content with loving a ghost, but... Felix refused to. Now he had Sylvain back in his life, he wasn't going to let go.

" _Friends for life. No dying. Those are the rules,"_ he wanted so badly to remind him every time they went into battle. When he finally did, it stopped Sylvain in his tracks, and made him smile so warmly Felix felt his heart melting, and warmth flood his body, and it was as if nothing changed, as if those five years apart had never happened. 

☆☆☆

They faced down the Death Knight. Byleth told them not to, but Felix, idiot that he was, couldn't refuse a direct challenge when given one. He drew his sword and barrelled forward, after the Death Knight easily flung aside Mercedes, dislodging her from her pegasus and unconscious. Not dead, thankfully. But the visual was enough to make Felix see red, grit his teeth, and charge. He may have refused to fight her, but he was going to fight Felix for hurting his friends.

Sylvain cut between them, on his large black mare. _Belle._

"No! If you want to fight him, you'll have to get through me first." He snapped. Felix sputtered, freezing up. 

"Very well." The knight readied his lance, and Sylvain readied his, about to edge his horse forward when...

Felix loudly shouted: _"Wait!"_

Sylvain paused to look over his shoulder, and down where Felix stood, waiting apprehensively.

"I'm not going to let you fight him alone," he snapped. A command, not a request. He stretched out an arm and Sylvain extended his to catch hold of him, and hike him up and over Belle's back, so he was seated behind him and the saddle. 

_"Hold on,"_ Sylvain murmurred and Felix nodded, wrapping one arm around Sylvain's waist as he edged the horse forward with his knees and a clicking noise. They charged at the Death Knight, who threw up his shield.

"Cowards!" He cried. "Have you no honour?! Are you afraid to fight me alone?"

"Do you think what you do is honourable?" Sylvain spat back. He made another go of charging at him, lance extended. While the Death Knight was busy deflecting his blow, Felix extended a free hand to cast Thoron, from the back of Sylvain's horse. The Knight let our a cry, as a bolt of electricity cut through his armour, sharp and dramatic.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Sylvain hummed in approval, glancing over his shoulder to meet Felix's eye. Felix gave him a smug smile in answer, and leaned a little closer, running the hand around Sylvain's waist up his armour, ostensibly to get a better hold of him, but it still made Sylvain's heart beat a little faster.

"Some of us actually paid attention in class."

Sylvain finished off the Death Knight, Felix gripping tightly to his waist as he leaned off his horse to push the _Lance of Ruins_ bodily through the Death Knight where the armour left a gap. Then they sped away, heels kicking up dirt and sand. They needed to get back to the others, to find a healer to help their fallen. As they rode, Felix kept both arms wrapped around his waist, even after they slowed into an easy, regular rhythm, and the need for it had passed. Then Felix rested his head against Sylvain's shoulder. Sylvain kept his eyes trained forward. He didnt want to complain... and he didn't want to lose that warmth, either. He didn't want to ruin this moment. He could reprimand Felix later, in camp, for being so reckless, and nearly getting himself killed by trying to take the Death Knight on singlehandedly. For now, he would enjoy a rare moment of Felix willingly making himself vulnerable... while still managing to keep the upper hand, as only Felix could. 

"I missed you, you big idiot." Felix mumbled into his plated shoulder.

"Missed you, too, Frauldarius."

"Never leave again."

"Don't plan to."

And that was the only conversation they needed. Mercedes was soom restored by Linhardt and brought back to camp. She must have known the guy. She'd called out to him by name. Felix would have to ask her about that, someday. But not today.

After a quick wash, Felix went to Sylvain's tent, instead of his own, and asked Ingrid to room with Ashe for the night. She reluctantly agreed. After Sylvain had finished setting out two bedrolls side by side, Felix clambered onto it, and kissed him, and stole all of the blanket. And Sylvain didn't mind, because Felix was back, and in his tent, and he had to admit, now, what he could not admit when they were at the Monastery, when he was not yet brave enough to say it out loud: "I love you, Felix," he murmurred, gently carding a hand through Felix's hair, as he made a muffled noise into Sylvain's shoulder. "What was that?"

"Sentimental fool," Felix hummed, not lifting his head, as he tugged Sylvain closer, folding him in his arms.

☆☆☆

_You should have told him when you had the chance._

Why were those the first words that came to mind when he saw Sylvain fall from his horse? It felt... selfish, to think of himself, when he saw Sylvain fall, lying motionless on the ground, as his enemy raised their spear, ready to strike.

Felix darted between them, vaulting his sword through the masked enemy's chest. He staggered back, dropping his heavy spear before crumpling to the ground in a pool of blood.

Within moments, Felix was breathless, kneeling on the ground before Sylvain, trying his hardest to wake him up. He took out his canteen and poured some water over his face, before feeding him the rest. He wished he had any healing magic left, but the battle had bled him dry.

"Sylvain? Are you okay? _W_ _ake up, say something!"_ He pleaded. Sylvain made a noise, turned his head, leaning against Felix's knee, but kept his eyes closed.

"Felix! You found me. I knew you would," he mumbled, opening his mouth so it was easier for Felix to feed him water.

"I should have been by your side, you great idiot. What did you think would happen when you ran off on your own?!"

 _"Divine retribution,"_ Sylvain concurred, sleepily. He nestled in against Felix's knee again.

"Stay awake! I am going to get a healer for you, but you need to stay awake."

"Don't go," Sylvain protested meekly. "Please... I don't want to be alone when I..."

"You're not going to die, Sylvain! I won't let you!"

"I don't know if that's up to you, Fe."

"I won't let you break our promise!"

"I only... ever... held you back..."

"Shut up! Look at me!" Felix snapped angrily. With great difficulty, Sylvain opened his eyes in thin slits. The light burned them. "I love you, Sylvain. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to die beside you, when we're both old and grey and useless and can't even hold swords anymore. There is no way I am letting you worm your way out of our agreement now. You made a _promise,"_ he intoned from behind clenched teeth.

"Do you really..." Sylvain started coughing. Felix gently stroked the side of his face, hoping to calm him. His heartbeat steadied. Once the coughing stopped, he went strangely still, and looked up at Felix with wide brown eyes in a daze, for several minutes, before saying, clear as day: "Will you marry me, Felix Hugo Frauldarius?"

Felix felt his throat close up as he looked down at Sylvain, whose head was still resting in his lap, red hair crowning him like a martyr. He looked up at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Felix had already forgotten how to speak. That wasn't what he met, when he talked about growing old together. He never seriously contemplated the idea of getting married one day. He could not think of anyone he would _want_ to marry, except... Sylvain. Since he was eight years old, and Sylvain was ten, and he followed him everywhere like a shadow, he had only ever had eyes for Sylvain.

 _"Felix! Sylvain!"_ A voice cried overhead. _"Mercedes!"_ Felix snapped to attention, lifting his head. It was Ingrid, on her pegasus, keeping watch from the skies, as she always did. "What happened?!"

"He needs a healer," Felix barked out, voice going rough. "Quickly! Please!"

Ingrid nodded, pulling at the reins so her pegasus reeled back, hooves dancing through the air seeking traction.

"I will go get Linhardt! Hold on!" Then she flew away, and once again, they were alone.

"...Fe?"

"Yes?"

"You haven't answered."

Felix scoffed. "Because I know you're joking."

"Not this time, Fe."

A sigh.

"Your father would disown you."

"Let him! I don't care."

"You say that now, but... leaving behind the noble family you were born into is harder than it sounds. Take it from someone who knows. You're used to having money and respect and security. Could you survive without those things? On your own?"

"I wouldn't be on my own. I'd have you." A beat, as he reached blindly to lace his hand with Felix's. "You can't always be a lone wolf, Felix."

"Can't I?" Felix asked, wearing the ghost of a smile.

"You can say no, Fe. Just... get it over with. Like ripping off a bandage."

Felix grumbled. He was still grappling with something he was struggling to put to words.

"I want... to kiss you again."

"Then kiss me."

"Are you sure?" Felix asked. He was afraid of hurting him.

"You were my first kiss. It seems only fitting you should be my last."

Felix leaned down, craning his neck to kiss Sylvain. It didn't last long. A simple pressing of lips, but warmth spread through Felix like a wildfire. Sylvain pulled away, and into a coughing fit. Felix quickly pulled back.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" Felix asked, with a pang of concern in his voice.

Mercedes stirred, and pushed herself up, taking in her surroundings. She was unharmed, apart from a few bruises, but still dazed. It took her a moment to spot Felix and Sylvain. As soon as she did, she rushed over, and crashed down, ungracefully, into the loose dirt when Felix and Sylvain lay moored. She started casting a healing spell over the fallen paladin, completely ignoring Felix as she sought out Sylvain's wrist to check his pulse, ignoring the blood and dirt that caked his armour, the side of his face. It was only after she had finished casting she took a step back, eyes darting between them.

"Is he going to be okay?" Felix asked, leaning over to watch.

She nodded, gave him an encouraging smile. "Yes, but he should take it easy for the next few days. Take good care of him, Fe."

Felix scowled. "Why me? I'm not his nursemaid."

"No, but once we are married I will be your responsibility. In sickness and in health, remember?" Sylvain answered, eyes still closed, leaning his head against Felix, tugging him closer.

He scoffed. "I never said yes!"

"You kissed me!"

Felix went bright red, but made no reply. How could he, with Mercedes right there?

"I should go, you two... probably want to be alone. Congratulations!" She said, with a bright smile, bold as brass.

"We aren't getting married!" Felix was quick to correct, as she moved to her feet, and dusted off her skirts, before running off to tend to her wounded pegasus.

"You want to kiss me outside of wedlock? What would the Goddess think?!" Sylvain exclaimed with a gasp.

Felix rolled his eyes. "What is it going to take to shut you up?"

"Another kiss might."

"You're covered in blood!"

"That's never stopped you before."

With a sigh, Felix shook his head, and leaned forward. Sylvain moved to meet him, a hand stealing up and around his ear, dragging him down into a kiss. It was hungrier than the last, more urgent. His strength was coming back. He threaded a hand in Felix' hair, tugged at the roots, but it only made Felix work harder to deepen the kiss, as if this too was a competition he was determined to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! This chapter's extra long to make up for it. Apologies for all the yearning in this one I don't know what came over me but in my defense, Felix is canonically the sort of person who waits until after he's dead to tell someone how important they are to him so I rest my case.
> 
>  **Notes:** Here on out, expect more canon deviation. Rodrigue is still alive and well, for example. I tagged for implied homophobia re: Sylvain's dad, but don't worry, I want to end on a high note, it won't be too strong. I settled on using line breaks for short jumps in time (later the same day, or the next day) and stars for longer jumps in time or flashbacks. Most flashbacks are in italics. I would find a way to date entries but I don't understand how the passage of time works in FE3H and honestly at this point, I'm too afraid to ask.


	4. After the War

Sylvain was consigned to a bed in the infirmary for the next two weeks. Felix frequently visited him between missions. He tried to time his visits for when Linhardt was on duty, because he gave the pair space, but some days Mercedes took extra shifts. All he wanted was to see Sylvain and have a few moments alone with him, but she hovered protectively close.

"Oh, back again I see!" She chimed, as soon as she caught sight of Felix sitting by his bed. He had been holding Sylvain's hand but immediately pulled away when she walked over to greet him, and hung his head, avoiding her eye. "Did you bring more sweets?" 

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he said, as he fished another box of sweets out of his satchel and handed them unceremoniously over to Sylvain. His face immediately lit up.

"Oh, Fe! You didn't have to!" He chimed happily, taking the box from him. For someone who hated sweets, he had good taste. "Next you're going to start bringing me flowers."

"Would you... _like_ flowers?" Felix asked, clearly uncomfortable. He had never set foot inside the greenhouse but he knew it was there. He also knew Ashe would be _more than happy!_ to explain in boring detail the language of flowers to him again.

Sylvain extended his uninjured arm and gently took up Felix's chin, so he faced him. The gesture surprised Felix, but he didn't pull away. There was something so sincere in the way Sylvain stared at him, his knees went weak.

"I'd like anything you gave me," he said, bringing the faintest smile to Felix's face as he _hmph'd!_ in answer.

"You two are so cute!" Mercedes exclaimed, delighted. The smile went out like a light, and Felix moved away, rearranging himself in his chair beside Sylvain's bed.

"We are not cute," he snapped irritably.

"No, _you_ are." Sylvain countered, reaching across the divide to ruffle his hair. Felix hissed, but let him. He looked so much like an angry cat Sylvain wanted to kiss him, but he knew Felix would get mad if he tried to kiss him in front of an audience.

"So when's the wedding?" Mercedes asked, spoiling everything. "Am I invited?"

"Of course you're invited, Mercy! We couldn't have it without you!"

"There's no wedding," Felix muttered, turning sour. "Don't listen to him."

Sylvain makes a point of grabbing hold of Felix's hand again, and Felix scowls but doesn't pull away, letting their joined hands rest on the bed between them.

"Only been engaged for five days and already getting cold feet?" He hummed, leaning closer and lowering his voice, knowing sooner or later Felix would _have_ to meet his eyes.

"I thought you were dying! I would have agreed to anything!"

 _"Anything...?"_ Sylvain considers, letting the suggestion linger in the air. Sylvain leans across the bed to give his cheek a quick kiss and Felix goes red to the tips of his ears, but holds his tongue.

"What wedding?" Caspar asks, popping up in his bed. He's covered in bandages. He walked straight into an enemy trap, apparently. Sylvain didn't ask for an explanation. Caspar seemed strangely nonplussed by his present state. Mercedes told him he had a concussion.

"You're invited, too!" Sylvain exclaimed, moving away from Felix just as he was starting to lean into his touch. He jerked his head upright when Sylvain did, and moved back off the bed, where he was beginning to spill after Sylvain stole that kiss, and into his chair.

"Why not invite the entire batallion while you're at it!" 

"Why are you surprised I want to show you off?" Sylvain countered.

Ingrid and Ashe arrived, arguing loudly, and Felix immediately snapped upright, and out of his chair. "Well, I had better go..."

 _"Wait, Felix!"_ Sylvain called, sitting up straight and reaching for him. Felix stopped when he caught his arm but didn't look back. "I meant it. Every word. I want to make you happy."

"Then get better," Felix said, bluntly, but with affection. Sylvain let go and Felix stumbled a few steps away. Quietly: "I meant what I said, too." 

"...Then you will?"

Felix cleared his throat, looking around the room. Mercedes and a blissfully unaware Caspar were still watching them, expectantly. Ingrid and Ashe would work their way over to them in a few moments, but did not seem to be paying them any mind, just now. He turned his head to meet Sylvain's eyes. A deep sigh. Sylvain was still holding on to his arm. He couldn't imagine a life without him. He didn't want to imagine a life without him. He nodded his head, then replied softly: "I will. Just let me go."

Sylvain let go. "Sure thing, babe. What you say goes."

Another groan. _"Don't."_

"...Sweetheart?"

"Don't make me bite you."

 _"Oh!"_ The redhead purrs, "is that a promise?"

Felix doesn't protest when Sylvain pulls him down into a quick kiss from where he's sitting up in bed. He can't deny him anything like this, bruised and battered in his sick bed, all because he risked his life protecting him, the way he always did. 

"I'll bring flowers next time," he promises, sounding as bad-tempered as ever, but it makes Sylvain feel warm and fuzzy anyway. Goddess, he was such a masochist.

"Aww, thanks honey," Sylvain chimes as Felix tuts and spins on his heel, heading very quickly for the door. "He loves me," he tells Mercedes, as Felix storms off.

Ingrid's jaw clicks back into place as she yanks Ashe over to his bed side, looking like she's just seen a natural disaster occur.

 _"You kissed Felix!"_ She exclaims, as if this is breaking news. As if there weren't rumours already in circulation about their engagement. Sylvain wouldn't stop telling everyone he met, he was so ecstatic. Felix denied those rumours, of course, but Sylvain persisted.

"I thought you knew! We kind of got back together. If I'd known it would be this easy, I'd have fallen off my horse years ago."

"But I've never seen you kiss him before! And in front of _Mercedes!"_ She sounded completely scandalised.

It caught Sylvain off guard. "She's seen worse," he countered with a shrug.

 _"Has she?!"_ Ingrid gasped. Mercedes smiled. She was used to everyone thinking she was naive.

"She's got a girlfriend. Small. Ginger. You've met her. Oh, did you think she's seen me and Felix...? No, I haven't had any congugal visits. Recently."

"It's kind of weird seeing you two actually kiss," Ingrid admitted.

"What did you think we were doing when we asked to share a tent?"

"I know it's dumb! But so is this! You feel like... I don't know, the big brother I never had, and that makes Felix my little brother, and I want to be happy for you both but it's also kind of gross that my brothers are kissing, you know?"

"You are aware we are not actually related, right? ...Also you were engaged to Glenn, so that makes this metaphor even worse."

"The metaphor was already bad enough! Can we stop with the metaphors?!" Ingrid muttered, hands held in fists at her side. He loved riling her up.

Then he noticed Ashe looking shellshocked beside her. "What's his problem? Did you break him?"

"You kissed Felix, and he didn't punch you!" He echoed, sounding just as shocked as Ingrid.

"Why is everyone so surprised by the notion I could have a steady boyfriend?!"

 _"Fiance,"_ Mercedes corrected.

"Practically a husband!"

 _"Husbands,"_ she concurred with a nod.

"On that note, I need a favour, 'Grid. Could you get me a ring?"

"Don't call me that. Why do you need a ring?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"So I can propose to Felix again. Properly. I want to do it right. But I need a ring."

"You're _seriously_ going through with this?" Ingrid asked, giving him a sceptical look.

"With what? You know I love him."

"Yes, but do you love him enough to make it legal, stop philandering, and tell your dad?"

"For Felix? Absolutely," he said with enough conviction that it made Ingrid frost over. "I'm serious about this, Ingrid. I want to spend the rest of my life with him."

"You really are, aren't you?" She repeated, dumbfounded. Then she reached over and hugged him. He winced with pain, but let her. "You'll make him a good husband, won't you?"

"I'll do my best," he said, when she finally pulled away, grinning with all his teeth. "But I might need some help. Moral support, y'know? We're going to have to tell Rodrigue."

Ingrid nodded, giving Sylvain's shoulder a pat. "Sure thing, Sylvain. We can all go together."

"I have to get Felix's okay, first." He looked over to Ashe. "You're invited, too!"

"Aww, thanks Sylvain!" He chipped in. "I'm glad you two worked things out."

"You can pay me back by helping with the wedding. You, too, Mercy!" He called, even though Mercy was already back to making the rounds. He waved to her, and she waved back. "Mercy's gonna bake the cake."

"You have it all planned, huh?" Ingrid said, one brow raised.

"Oh, yeah! I've had it all lined up since the day Felix showed up at my doorstep."

She shook her head. "I bet you did. Well, you've got my blessing."

"Thanks, 'Grid."

"Oh!" Ashe handed a tiny wrapped bundle to Sylvain, who looked perplexed by its thin, shiny silver paper. "This is for Felix."

"A gift... for Felix?"

"For _you_ to give Felix. It wasn't easy but I finally found a flower he might like."

"What, is it a cactus? Something covered in thorns?"

"Not quite. Take a look!" He suggested, and Sylvain tentatively unwrapped the thin shiny paper. It looked dead.

"You want me to give him a dead plant?"

 _"No!_ No, it's... it's called a dragon fruit flower. Few people ever get to see their true beauty, because they only bloom at night, when most people are fast asleep."

"That's a nice thought... but I don't think Felix is going to like being compared to a plant."

Ashe shrugged. "It was just an idea."

Sylvain gave a nod and looked down at the dead plant in his lap for a long moment before he wrapped it up again and set it down on his bedside table. Great. Now he would have to make some excuse, as soon as he could walk again, to see Felix alone at night and hope he didn't get a dagger through the neck for calling him beautiful. He was still touchy about compliments. You had to phrase them just right. If only Sylvain had ever learned how to think before he speaks.

☆☆☆

Once Mercedes gave him the seal of approval, he was out of the infirmary and hunting down Felix. As soon as he found him he took hold of Felix's hand and pulled him into a rushed kiss, dipping the slight, startled swordsman with an arm hooked around his waist.

 _"Hey Fe, I missed you,"_ he practically sings as he pulls away. Felix makes a noise he cannot read, but doesn't move away until the embrace has drawn out uncomfortably long. Then he shoves him back, forcefully.

"I'm glad you're still in one piece, Sylvain."

"Oh, hey! I brought you something! Ashe got me this while I was tied up im bed." Felix stopped in his tracks and turned to face Sylvain as he held out the small offering, one brow raised. He reached forward tentatively and took it up, examined it. "Open it."

He unwrapped the paper carefully. "You got me... a dead plant."

"No, it's not dead! It's called a dragon fruit flower, and it only blooms at night. Just wait and see. It's like you."

He narrowed his eyes. "...How is it like me?"

"You only let me kiss you when no one's looking." He made a contrary noise. "And you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, but you try to hide it."

"I think you should have got me something poisonous instead."

"I don't care if you're poisonous. I'd keep kissing you anyway."

He tried to edge forward, leading Felix closer so he could bend down to kiss the side of his jaw, his neck.

Felix had gone red again. "The Sun is setting. Do you want to... stay until it blooms?"

"Do I want to spend the next five hours staring at a dead plant with you?" Sylvain paraphrased, smirking proudly.

"You can say no!" Felix said.

"I'm not saying no. That sounds wonderful," he insisted, before folding Felix in his arms. He had his back to the horizon. He couldn't care less about the sunset, or Ashe's flower. He just wanted an excuse to spend the rest of the night with Felix. He had a pretty good idea that was all Felix wanted, too. He just wasn't good at using his words.

They sat in the tall grass, side-by-side, on a hill overlooking the Monastery. But they had their backs to the Monastery, watching the sunset instead, and night spill over them, and the sky fill with stars. They had talked for a bit, then Sylvain had talked, and Felix had slumped against his shoulder. He gingerly took up Felix's hand, that was still protectively holding the flower in a death grip, as if afraid someone might steal his present. That's how you knew he cared. He didn't say _'thank you,'_ he just treated every gift like it was priceless. He was secretly very sentimental.

Sylvain squeezed Felix's hand and he made a soft noise that made Sylvain's heart constrict, and his mouth fall open. "Are you awake, Fe?" He asked in a low voice.

Felix grumbled, lifting his head up from Sylvain's shoulders and running a hand through his hair. He let it fall down from its clasp, and over his shoulders. 

"Your dragon's blooming," he added, nudging his shoulder lightly with his own. Felix adjusted himself, capelet still wrapped around his shoulders at a jaunty angle and still stabbing Sylvain's thigh with his knee. He scrambled upright and found the flower in his hands had opened. He blinked sleep from his eyes, to get a better look.

"It's... shining," he mumbled, still half asleep.

Sylvain had to do all the work now. He got up and turned over, so that he was on his knees in front of Felix, than just the one, and he reached out to take up Felix's hand. His eyes widened, as he finally realised why the dragon fruit was shining. He plucked the ring out from the dragon fruit flower, examined it. "It's a goddess ring..."

"Will you make me the happiest man alive, Felix Hugo Frauldarius?" Sylvain asked, still struggling to keep his balance on the uneven dirt in his heavy boots.

"You've already proposed to me," Felix baulked, unimpressed. He still put the ring on. 

"I know, but I didn't have a ring when I asked you, and I wanted to do it right..."

"How did you find this in the infirmary?" Felix asked. It wasn't exactly easy to find jewellery in the middle of a battlefield, but in a _hospital?_

"Ingrid helped. Look, you still haven't said _yes..."_

Felix reached out and put a hand around either of Sylvain's shoulders. Their eyes met. "I want to marry you, Sylvain."

Sylvain gave him a lop-sided grin, barely able to contain his joy. "And you're not just saying that because I'm dying?"

"No. Come here," he instructed, and Sylvain edged forward, following orders, and Felix kissed his forehead, between his eyes. "You're my favourite idiot," he hummed. "I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else."

* * *

"You're always running," Sylvain said while they trained. He held up a board and let Felix pummel it, and indirectly him, with his training gauntlets. He was as relentless as ever that morning.

 _"I'm always running,"_ Felix echoed sarcastically. "What does that even mean?"

"You're always running away. From your problems." Felix scoffed loudly _._ "From me!" He lowered the board, risking his very life in the process, but for once, Felix pulled his punch.

"Well, I don't run very fast." He relented, giving the lowered board another half-hearted jab before casting his gauntlets off into the dirt. An admission of weakness. Not something Sylvain expected. He turned to walk away but Sylvain stepped forward and reached for his hand, settled for lightly clasping his arm instead. Felix swivelled around to face him, head downcast.

"Yeah, sometimes you let me catch you. Why don't you give your old man the same chance?" For once, Felix did not protest. He just lowered his eyes and gave a nod. "I think you should invite him to the wedding. I know you find this hard to believe, but... he loves you."

"What about your parents?" Felix asked, with a sigh.

"Can't we just... elope?" Sylvain suggested instead.

Felix shook his head. "They'll find out sooner or later. If you want to stop receiving letters like the one you got this morning..."

"...You read it?" Sylvain asked, swallowing the lump in his throat and straightening up.

"No, but I can guess what it says. He's found you another wife, right?"

Sylvain nodded. _"Ilona von Harlen._ I think I met her, once. Years ago. But we were just kids, then."

"Maybe he'd stop trying to marry you off to every noblewoman he meets if he knew you were already engaged."

Sylvain let out a hoarse laugh. "You really think that would stop him?! ...No, I'd rather tell him after the wedding. That way, he can't stop us."

"He _already_ can't stop us. You're a grown man, you can do what you want. All he can do is..." his fingers danced through the air.

"Disown me?" Sylvain supplied, helpfully. Felix rolled his eyes.

"He won't disown you. You're the only son he has left." He looked away. "I'll tell mine first."

Sylvain leaned in, resting his chin on Felix's shoulder. "So what I'm hearing is... roadtrip to House Frauldarius?"

Felix smirked, leaning back against Sylvain as he massaged his arm lightly, a warm, familiar gesture. "You're coming with?"

"You bet your boots I am. We can bring back up, too. I'm sure we could talk Ingrid and Ashe into going."

A weary sigh. "...Alright."

Sylvain nodded, and gave Felix a quick kiss on the lips, unwinding his arms. " _Perfect!_ I'll start making preparations."

Before he could escape, Felix grabbed hold of his wrist. "Not so fast, Sylvain. I'll work things out with my old man if you talk to yours."

"After the wedding? _Absolutely."_ Sylvain kissed his cheek, relishing the way it _still_ made Felix blush after all this time.

"You can't put this off forever, Sylvain."

"I know, I just want to put it off a little longer," he said with a broad smile. "I can't believe I'm going to be a Duchess!"

"Yeah, yeah, love you, too," Felix mumbled under his breath, looking at his feet when Sylvain dipped down to kiss his shoulderblade.

 _"What was that?_ You're a little muffled."

"Don't make me repeat it!"

"Goddess, you're such a little brat. Tug my hair and tell me how stupid I am! It really gets me going."

"You're insufferable," Felix groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"And I'm all yours," Sylvain teased, flashing his ringed hand. "So what happens next? Now the war is over... we could go anywhere, do anything. The world is ours."

"What is there, besides fighting?" Felix asked, with too much sincerity. Sylvain tsked.

"We should save the fighting until after the wedding, too."

Felix balled one of his hands into a fist and raised it to punch Sylvain in the chest. Sylvain easily caught his hand. Felix might have been strong, but Sylvain still had a height and weight advantage.

 _"Tch!_ I know you're not as tought as you act. I've seen you feeding the Monastery's stray cats when you think no one's looking."

A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Felix's mouth. "Are you calling me weak? You've really got a death wish, Gautier..."

"We should get a cat," Sylvain suggested.

"Why?" Felix looked confused.

"I love how soft you go when there's a cat around."

Felix looked away. "I don't dislike cats. I was more thrown by the _we."_

Sylvain hummed, looking terribly pleased with himself. "That's what we are now, isn't it?"

He knew Sylvain wasn't calling him weak. He wouldn't dare. He had seen him in battle. He had seen him in _training._ Sylvain knew how tough he was. He didn't have to show off here. He didn't have to pretend, or put on airs.

But it was hard to stop. Force of habit. "I guess. I just can't think of it like that. I never expected to..."

"Settle down?" Sylvain guessed. He knew Felix hated the idea of settling down or retiring. He would stop fighting when he was dead, and not a day sooner.

"To have a home," Felix said, instead, which made Sylvain clutch his chest, knocking the wind right out of him. "That's _ours,_ not our fathers... that sounds nice."

Sylvain took up Felix's hand, sans gauntlet, and kissed it, making the swordsman flustered. "Then we'll find one! We'll build it from the ground up, if we have to."

"I'm not 'settling down.' But having something to come home to... doesn't sound so bad." The 'someone' to come home to was implicit, but Sylvain would take it. So it was settled: they were going to build a little home for the two of them, their cat, and his mare. He couldn't ask for more.

☆☆☆

They turned up at House Frauldarius unannounced, with four horses and three friends. Ingrid, Ashe, and Leonie had agreed to come along for the ride, and were promised free food and entertainment for their troubles. Felix rode with Sylvain on Belle, to save bringing an extra horse, and because Sylvain didn't want Felix's bad luck with horses to 'slow them down.' Felix had spent most of their ride north clinging to Sylvain's back like a tick. Sylvain didn't draw attention to the fact, because he didn't want Felix to pull away. He missed having Felix wrapped around his waist, a familiar paperweight pressed against his back, breath hot on his neck. 

The servant who answered the door recognised Felix on sight, and immediately shepherded him and his friends inside. They were seated in a small waiting room, on the ground floor, and tea was made and brought out, to warm them up after their long travels. Felix's asked to be announced to his father. He had full reign over the house, if he wanted it, but... he was not entirely sure he would be a welcome guest there, after so many years away. He had to speak to his father first. Rodrigue wasted no time appearing at the bottom of the stairs, slack-jawed at the sight of his long lost son, arms spread wide.

"Felix! It's really you!" He cried, before taking in the other occupants of the room. "You brought guests."

"Friends. They're staying with me. Is that okay?" Felix asked.

"Of course! Your friends are always welcome here. This is your home, too."

"You've met Sylvain and Ingrid," he said, acknowledging them with a faint wave of his hand. "This is Ashe. Leonie." 

"Pleasure to meet you, Sir!" Leonie said, walking up to him and sticking out her hand for him to shake. He shook it. 

"It's really an honour to meet you, Duke Frauldarius..." Ashe mumbled, offering his hand.

"Please, just call me Rodrigue."

"Sir," Sylvain squeaked, extending his hand next. Rodrigue smiled as he shook it. He still remembered him when he was just an obnoxious kid, playfighting his sons and flirting with maids twice his age. If it was even possible to save face at this stage, it wouldn't be easy. 

"So, what brings you here?" Rodrigue asked, glance darting between the five of them. Sylvain cleared his throat, exchanged a long look with Felix, wondering just how much he wanted to say, or if he wanted to wait, or if he wanted him to...

"Sylvain and I are engaged. We're going to get married, soon. I'm not asking for permission, or your blessing, but I'd like..." Felix hung his head, avoiding his father's eyes. "For you to be there, at my wedding."

Rodrigue's mouth fell open in surprise, but he only hesitated for a moment before turning to Sylvain and drawing him into a hug.

"I'm getting a son-in-law!" He exclaimed, overjoyed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

"Goddess," Felix remarked, startled. "He's going senile in his old age."

"Come here, Felix! I want to congratulate you both! Let's hold a grand feast... when is the wedding? There's a place nearby which would be _ideal,_ if you are still looking for a venue...?" 

Felix reluctantly edged a few steps forward. His father hugged him, too. He made a reluctant noise, and Sylvain smirked at him, his trademark self-satisfied grin. He _knew_ Rodrigue loved his son, even if he didn't know how to say it. He just wasn't sure how Rodrigue would feel about him. It's not as if he had made a particularly good first impression, all those years ago.

"No speech about how I'm not worthy of your son?" Syvlain asked, feigning dismay.

"Sylvain. You're practically family, already. I see no harm in making it official. You will take good care of him, won't you?"

"I don't need a caretaker!" Felix huffed, shuffling his feet.

"I would never do anything to hurt him."

Rodrigue held his gaze, then gave a curt nod. "I will take you at your word, Sylvain. I always knew you two were close, forgive me for not noticing sooner... but I am happy for you," he insisted, when Sylvain reached, reassuringly, to take up Felix's hand. He made a face but held Sylvain's hand in an iron grip. Dorothea was right. He was engaged to a porcupine. He couldn't wait to kiss that sour mouth, but he'd have to remember to disarm Felix before he took him to bed. The man was a walking armoury.

"I imagine you will want to stay with Felix? I will have the guest rooms prepared for your friends." Rodrigue gestured to the others. Sylvain's eyes darted nervously to Felix, looking for approval.

"Of course you're staying with me. Come on," he tugged at Sylvain's arm, and started dragging him across the room. "Don't wait up for us!" He called out as he led Sylvain up the stairs. He looked over his shoulder, giving his friends a smile and wave, before they were out of sight.

"That went well," Sylvain hummed as they made their way through the hallway towards Felix's bedroom.

"I'm going to ravish you."

" _Oh, Felix..."_ Sylvain blushed, hand on his chest like a shocked maiden, as Felix shoved him into his bedroom and slammed the door closed behind him. He was remarkably strong. Sylvain stumbled back a few steps, till his heels hit the bed and he collapsed down. Felix scoffed and turned away, to discard his heavy swords and bows and coats. 

He quickly returned to Sylvain, sitting on the edge of the bed, still fully dressed and in a daze. This was the same bedroom Felix had when they were young. It was a little disorienting, to be here again. He remembered the hunting party. Learning how to kiss in this bed. They were just kids then, but it had been nice all the same, having Felix wrap his arms around Sylvain's neck and kiss him until some servants showed up and spoiled everything.

But they weren't children anymore. Felix glided over, put a hand on Sylvain's chest, and the redhead wrapped his arms around Felix's waist and tugged him closer. He was being uncharacteristically quiet. Felix noticed. "Why is your jaw on the floor?"

"I'm waiting for you to ravish me."

"I meant in the 'making you dead' way."

"No one says 'ravish' in a 'making you dead' way," Sylvain countered, dipping down to kiss Felix's shoulderblade, as he eased him the rest of the way into his lap and onto the bed. For once, Felix didn't put up a fight, gazing thoughtfully up at Sylvain before he trailed a hand up his chest, then through his hair, considering. 

"How do you like the sound of Sylvain José Fraldarius?"

"I'm glad you're thinking about that, and not the friends we abandoned downstairs with your poor father."

"He can handle them. He likes entertaining guests," Felix insists.

He'd completely forgotten about their friends. They could take care of themselves.

"If you want me to take your name, I will. I want everyone to know I belong to you."

Felix rolled his eyes. "People don't _belong_ to other people. But I want you to be a part of my life, until they put us both in the dirt." 

"Aww, Felix. You hopeless romantic." Sylvain pressed forward, lacing a hand with Felix's as he leant down to kiss him on the lips. His tone was joking, but he meant it. He really did. Because Felix _was_ romantic, in his own way, it was just a side of himself he didn't like to let other people see. He would have been too ashamed to talk like this to anyone else, but he knew nothing he said would make Sylvain love him less. "I love seeing you like this. So at peace."

"The war is over. You're here. What else is there to worry about?" He asked, clamping a hand on Sylvain's waist.

"We still have to face my father. He's not as nice as yours."

 _"No,"_ Felix mumbles, weaving a hand around Sylvain's neck and pulling him down, over him.

"But _I'm_ nice," Sylvain hums, pulling out from the kiss just long enough to smirk charmingly. For once, it looks sincere.

 _"Yes,"_ Felix says, before needy hands and a wanting mouth silence Sylvain completely.

* * *

They were late to dinner, but at least there was still food left. Felix ate like he had never had a hot meal in his life. Sylvain is too distracted by Felix to pay much mind to the food. Rodrigue asks him if he is settling in alright. He nods. Yes. Of course. He hasn't left Felix's bed. That's not important.

Rodrigue explains their friends have been busy. Leonie, Ingrid, and Ashe have heen practicing archery.

"I won!" Leonie announced, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. "It was a piece of cake. I'd gotten four bullseye before Ashe had time to draw his bow."

Felix's smirk deepened. He took another bite of fowl. "I'm not surprised."

"Do we have a prodigy in our ranks?" Rodrigue asked, arching a brow. "We may call on you, when we require new knights. How would you like to serve House Fraldarius?"

Leonie's jaw dropped. Then she looked nervously to Felix, evidently waiting for him to step in.

"I think that's a great idea," he said, catching her off guard. "You're a skilled bow knight."

"I'm not a noble," Leonie hurriedly explains, gesturing to herself as if that fact were obvious as day.

"I don't care what family my cavaliers belong to, as long as they are capable and hard-working."

Sylvain let out a hoarse laugh, catching the Duke's attention. He raised a brow, looked to him. "Do you disagree, Sylvain?"

"Not at all! But my father's probably turning in his grave." His eye caught on Felix, who was giving him a sceptical look. "...Which he isn't in, because he's fine! He is completely alive and fine. And we are going to see him after.... b-before.... the wedding."

"...Have you considered having the wedding here?"

There was a loud clatter as cutlery dropped on Felix's plate.

"I think that sounds perfect!" Ingrid said, piling seconds onto her plate. She had always had a healthy appetite.

Sylvain met Felix's eyes, across the table, arched one brow. Felix pulled a face. "We can do whatever Sylvain wants."

"We could have the wedding here! But I think we should give some notice, so our friends have plenty of time..."

"I forgot he invited the entire battalion," Felix interjected, already exasperated by this conversation.

Leonie, seated next to him, gave him a clap on the back. "It's okay, we'll throw you a party you won't soon forget! Just leave it to us!"

So, they left it to them. A date was decided, and a guest list, and invitations sent. Sylvain and Felix spent the next few days training and riding. No matter how hard Sylvain _tried_ to teach Felix the rewards of relaxing, now and then, he knew Felix hated being idle, so he kept him entertained, and as far away from the 'proceedings' as possible. He left that all in Ash, Leonie, Ingrid, and Rodrigue's hands. Occassionally they would come to him if they had a question, knowing better than to ask Felix, but Sylvain handled everything, including Felix, as best he could. They weren't together every moment, though. One day, after waking up particularly early, Sylvain took to exploring the Frauldarius House, and found his way to the library, where he picked up a few books on dark magic and history. It did not take long for Ingrid to find him.

"How are you holding up?" She asked, arms crossed to warm herself. Sylvain quickly plastered on his trademark grin.

"Just peachy. Felix hasn't hit me once, all week!"

"No nervous jitters? No second thoughts? The wedding's in two weeks."

"I know! I know. Ingrid, I've been waiting for this day all my life. _I know,"_ he kept reiterating, hoping to calm _her_ more than himself. He knew this was what he wanted. He had been joking when he said he was waiting for this day since Felix turned up on his doorstep, he never seriously thought they would get married, no matter how much he _wanted_ it. He had always figured they would die together, in battle, side-by-side... but dying of old age, curled up around a fire, with a blanket over their knees, and a cat curled up in their lap...? That sounded like an impossible pipe dream. Yet the more time they spent together, here, in a warm house, lit by a warm fire, curled up together, or training, the easier it became to imagine that future... even if it still seemed more likely that they should die with their sword and lance in hand.

Felix was always more of a sword than a shield. But Sylvain didn't mind. He could be his shield, he could protect him, like he had when they were kids. Not because Felix _needed_ protecting, but just... because he wanted to, because the oath they'd made as children still stood in the back of his head, a constant reminder that without Felix, his life lacked direction. He knew Felix had other interests, too, but Sylvain... well, he had always cared more about his friends than he cared about 'saving the world' or 'ending a war' or... or even defending House Gautier's borders from a seemingly endless stream of adversaries. He would much rather devote his life to protecting all the people they'd helped, or tried to, over the years. They could still do that, together. Whether or not he was Margrave. 

"I'm so happy for you," Ingrid said again, raising a hand to cup the side of his face. "Me and Glenn... we never got our happy ending. But I'm glad you're going to get yours."

 _"Ingrid!_ You can still have a happy ending. I've seen the way Ashe looks at you..."

"If you value your life, Sylvain, stop talking."

"You've been spending too much time with Felix," Sylvain whined.

She shook her head, pulling him into a tight hug. He hugged her back, appreciating the gesture.

"Shut up and let me be proud of you! I'm glad you got your act together. You were always the one I worried about the most."

"Don't stop praying for me just yet, I still haven't talked to my father."

"Don't worry, we'll be right there when you do."

"Thanks, Ingrid," he hummed, wiping a tear from his eye. And he was grateful. Endlessly grateful, to have so many great friends in his life. He wondered how he could ever have taken them for granted.

* * *

The next day, Sylvain slipped out of bed early, and tried to figure out how to slip into his armour without waking the swordsman as he hiked up his boots.

Needless to say, he fell at the first hurdle. There was a clank of metal, then a pillow flew past his head. "What, are you running away, already?" Felix groaned, sleepily, trying to untangle himself from the sheets.

He wasn't a morning person. Sylvain hurried his dressing. He did up the belts on his breastplate, his shoulder pauldrons... and another pillow flew past, bouncing uselessly off of his plate armour.

"Hey, can you stop using me as target practice?"

"Tell me where you're going," Felix ordered with a yawn.

"Home," Sylvain replied.

Felix pushed himself upright, one foot still trapped in the bedsheets. There was a sad look in Sylvain's eyes. Felix hated it. "Not without me you aren't."

"You don't want to be there, trust me! I'm going to tell my dad 'no' for the first time in my life. It will get messy. Someone might die."

"All the more reason for me to go." Felix got out of bed, for once without an ounce of shame, and started dressing himself. Sylvain paused, watching the ripple of lean muscles as Felix tugged a tunic on over his head, then slung a bow over his shoulder before he pulled up a pair of trousers and strung on a belt. The thigh-high boots came next. He looked like... some kind of mountain lion. Like a prize-winning fencer— _which he was,_ Sylvain reminded himself, thinking back to all those tournaments he'd watched Felix win back in the Monastery. He never missed one. He missed most of his lectures. How could he have been so oblivious back then? He felt lightheaded just watching Felix, all his blood running... where it shouldn't. He shook his head, a tangle of red hair, made brighter by the hard glare of the morning Sun, and returned his focus to strapping himself into his armour. Before he could finish, Felix walked up behind him, and did up the straps behind his back, tugging it tight. "You need to lay off the cake," he quipped.

 _"_ And break Mercy's heart?! You _monster!"_

Felix kissed the back of his neck, where the armour ended.

"Come on, let's go. Your poor old horse is probably getting restless."

Before Sylvain could turn around, Felix was already out the door. So he trudged after him, down the hallway and stairs, in the direction of the main door.

They did not make it all the way to the main door.

"Felix! Sylvain!" Rodrigue exclaimed, evidently surprised to see them. "You're up early, the Sun's barely risen!"

"We have... a very important call to pay the Margrave," Sylvain explained before Felix could.

Rodrigue could read their intentions in their faces. He gave a short, curt nod.

"Oh. I see. Well, if you need my assistance with your father..."

"We'll be fine," Felix reassured him.

"What about your friends? Weren't they going with you?"

"Yeah, what about your friends?" Ingrid called, from the top of the stairs, making her hands into a funnel to help carry her voice. "Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

"Uhh... to... wake you up...?" Sylvain tried, eyes stealing, briefly, in Felix's direction. He tugged his hand free from Sylvain's, and crossed his arms, looking put out. So maybe Sylvain _wasn't_ the best when it came to stealth. So what?

"You can come if you want to, but be quick about it," Felix said. She was still in her nightclothes. She darted off to her room, to wake up Ashe and Leonie, and get dressed.

Rodrigue managed to talk Felix and Sylvain into having breakfast, and a cup of tea, before they went to the stables to ready the horses. Ingrid, Ashe, and Leonie assembled outside, ready when they did, and they were soon off. Rodrigue offered to send word ahead, but... Sylvain wanted it to be a surprise. He didn't want to give his father time to prepare a speech. It didn't take them long at all to reach the Margrave's place from House Frauldarius. It was just on the other side of a few mountains. But their arrival at the Gautier Estate was a far cry from their arrival at House Fraldarius. There was no warm reception. The Gautiers were already throwing a party when Sylvain arrived, and the servant who answered the door did not recognise him at first. When he did, he slipped off to alert Sylvain's mother. When she did finally appear, she seemed pleased to see him, and quickly flagged him into the crowded house, full of servants and strangers, without pausing to notice his friends, who only tentatively went inside and followed after him when he waved them in.

 _"Sylvain!_ I am so glad to see you, you have arrived just in time to save me! I have someone I'd like you too meet—"

"Mother, please... what about my friends?" Sylvain asked, pulling free the arm she was tugging.

She stopped in her tracks, mouth agape, as she scanned the faces of his friends who fanned out around him, looking shocked. "Felix, is that you? _And Ingrid!_ You look beautiful, dear!" She then turned on Sylvain with an accusatory look. "Why didn't you tell me you were bringing guests?! We would have had rooms prepared!"

"Mother, I invited them here because Felix and I are—" Sylvain started, but halfway through his sentence one of his mother's noble friends dragged her away, leaving Sylvain sputtering, "...getting married."

"You tried," Ingrid reassured him with a pat on his arm as he hung his head, defeated.

Felix frowned as he silently surveyed the room. He hated parties, and crowds, and... people. He looked even more like a porcupine than usual. From force of habit, Sylvain reached out to grab Felix's hand to steady his nerves, only checking himself when Felix shot back a quizzical look.

"What? Oh," he mumbled, letting Felix's hand drop. "Not yet. Okay."

"I just thought you'd want to wait until... you know... the time was right."

The party was very loud. The Gautier estate was very elegant, but the house was nowhere near as large as the Frauldarius' House. The noise travelled. Maybe they should have sent word ahead. They'd be lucky if they had a single guest room free tonight. They'd probably have to sleep outside in the snow.

"Maybe... we should just come back another time..."

_"Sylvain."_

"Right. No. We came all this way. I'll tell her. Just..."

A servant swam past holding a tray full of drinks. Sylvain grabbed one, indiscriminately, as it passed, liberating it from its tray.

The servant glared at him, and opened his mouth to reprimand him, but Sylvain put up his free hand innocently. "Son of the house!" He chimed, as if that forgave everything, and the servant shook his head but kept walking.

"Goddess, you really are a dolt," Felix complained, as Sylvain took a swig of... something expensive, strong, and too sweet. Before he could finish it, Felix took the glass from him and finished it off himself. "Ingrid, Leonie? Keep an eye on his mother. Ashe? Keep an eye out for the Margrave." He instructed, taking command of the situation.

"What does your father look like?" Ashe asked, looking even more wide-eyed than usual.

Sylvain shrugged. "Big, redheaded, mean."

"Like you, got it." Ashe gave a salute and disappeared.

Ingrid and Leonie walked into the parlour, where they had seen Sylvain's mother vanish. Leonie was, thankfully, immune to the insults of nobles, but Ingrid did not enjoy all the sour comments directed at her 'unladylike' form of dress. She did, however, manage to grit her teeth and corner Sylvain's mother. She tried to sugar her up, telling her how great her son was, and how heroically he fought during the war. Leonie nodded and shook her head and drank heavily because she could not bring herself to lie about Sylvain's conduct during the war, but she wanted to be a supportive friend anyway. Ashe managed to _find_ the Margrave but locked up when he addressed him, realising he had absolutely no idea what to say or do once he _found_ the Margrave, so he just swung his arms through the air to signal Felix and Sylvain over, instead. They quickly came to his rescue.

"Sylvain! What are you doing here!" The Margrave asked, startled.

"Hello, Father. I came because I wanted to tell you that Felix and I," he gestured towards Felix. "Have some important news."

The Margrave took a moment to notice Felix standing beside Sylvain, looking abnormally sheepish.

"Oh, Frauldarius! I haven't seen you in years! How is your father doing, lad?"

"He's... he's good," Felix mumbled quietly.

"What was that? You'll have to speak up?"

"The Duke is doing well," Felix reiterated, more firmly.

The Margrave shook his head. "It's no good, I can't hear you. Anyway, Sylvain, come with me. You actually had very good timing, I wanted to speak with you..." He slung an arm around Sylvain's shoulder and dragged him away. He looked, helplessly, back at Ashe and Felix, mouthing for them to rescue him, but they just stood there, looking dazed.

"I have some business contacts I would like you to meet, as the future Margrave, I think it's never too early to start establishing connections," he explained, already in a world of his own.

"Yes, Father," Sylvain muttered, as he introduced him to a string of nobles, whose faces and names Sylvain took no pain to remember. He dutifully shook hands with each and every one. All he could think about was finding a way to get free from his father, and back to his friends, but there was never an opening for him to slip away. As soon as he finally though he found one—he was shoved in the direction of a well-dressed young noblewoman with a pile of braided hair stacked atop her pretty face. And she was pretty. She smiled at him, politely. He forced a smile back.

"Ah! Just who I wanted to see! This is Ilona von Harlan, the daughter of Count von Harlan. I had been hoping you too would meet again. The Count tells me you used to know each other as children?"

Ilona. Why did that name sound familiar? She didn't _look_ familiar, except... oh, the letter. The one he burned. Sylvain scrambled to his feet and extended a hand to shake hers, giving her a clipped: 'Hello!'

"Sylvain! It's been so long," she exclaimed. "Do you still remember me? We used to go riding together, over the mountains, when we were younger..."

"That's nice. Father—" he spun around, to face his father, but he was already deep in conversation with someone else, several strides away.

So he was abandoning him. With her. He was trying to set them up. "Oh. I'm sorry, Ilona, I have to talk to my father, this really is important—"

"Why, yes, certainly..." she stammered out, but he was already chasing down his father. He stepped between him and his friend.

"We need to talk," he said firmly.

"What about? I thought you were having a nice time reminscing with the young Miss..." he turned around, to scan the crowd for Ilona, who was now being engaged in conversation with... Leonie. "Oh."

"I can't marry her, because I'm already engaged," he explained, flashing his ring.

"Oh. My. Sylvain, did you..." he scrambled to lead Sylvain to a quiet corner of the crowded room, and made sure no one was within earshot. "Are you and this young lady in any trouble?"

"No, we're not, actually, you see—"

"Then how could you get engaged without informing me?"

"I wasn't sure you'd handle it well. I know you always had plans for me, and I know this doesn't fit into your plans, but you see, _I'm_ the one who has to spend me entire life with this person, so if I am getting married, I want it to be to somebody I choose, somebody I _love,_ not a complete stranger..."

The Margrave gave a nod, pulled away. "Perhaps you are right. I just hope you chose a reasonable match, and not some barmaid..."

"Don't worry, it's not 'some barmaid.' It's someone I've known, and loved, for... almost my whole life, since we were children, and who I would do absolutely _anything_ to protect, and who makes me so... _so..._ blindingly happy, I don't care, if we're the last in our line, and the King himself has given us our blessing, and the Duke, so all that I have left is... to ask for yours," Sylvain stumbled through these words, staring at the wall, or the floor, or anywhere but the Margrave's eyes. Ingrid trotted over to Leonie's side, rescuing her from consoling a troubled noblewoman, and the Margrave's eyes widened, recognition setting in.

"I know this _seems_ sudden, and out of the blue, but it really shouldn't be, I mean, we've always been inseparable! I think most of our friends knew, before we did, but... I can't really imagine what my life would be like without him, now I—"

 _"Ingrid!"_ The Margrave exclaimed, suddenly, with unexpected vehemence, grabbing hold of Sylvain's arm.

 _"...W-what?"_ Sylvain stammered out, weakly.

"I can't believe I didn't see this sooner! You're engaged to Ingrid! And you were too afraid to tell me, because her parents have fallen on hard times. Look, son, I don't mind supporting both of you, she still comes from a fine, noble family..."

"...Ingrid?" Sylvain repeated, voice, and spirit, sinking. He suddenly felt very small. The Magrave gave him another clap on the back.

"You have my blessing, son! You shouldn't have ever doubted it! As long as you have a good, strong, noble girl by your side, I am sure you will do our family proud..."

"...Right," the redhead murmurred, crestfallen. "Uh, th-thank you..."

"Why not call her over? I want to congratulate you both!"

"Yes, uhh... let me just go... fetch _her..."_

Sylvain retreated from the Margrave and made his way over to Ingrid. He smiled as broadly as he could, in his current condition, and waved her over.

"Hello, Ingrid! My father wants... to speak to my _fiancee,"_ he said, trying to add emphasis to the last word. He added too much emphasis to the last word.

Ingrid just looked confused. He didn't blame her. "Sylvain, what's going on? Sylvain—"

"Ingrid, dear! Congratulations! Sylvain just told me the good news!" The Margrave exclaimed, before embracing Ingrid. She looked like a cat who'd just been thrown into a pool of water, until her confusion turned into certainty, and she glared at Sylvain over his father's shoulder. "I'm very happy to welcome you to the Gautier family. I always wanted a daughter." He took her hand and kissed it. It made her skin crawl, but she let him. "Are you staying the night? I'll have the servant's prepare a room."

Sylvain looked so perfectly helpless Ingrid was moved, by pity, to play along.

"Yes," she said, forcing a smile, as the Margrave straightened himself up. "I am happy for Sylvain, too."

She looked daggers at Sylvain, through her smile. "May I have a word, _dearest?"_ She asked, tilting her head to one side.

The two moved away from the Margrave. As soon as they were out of eyesight Ingrid grabbed Sylvain by the lapels and dragged him out of the main room, into an empty sideroom. Mostly empty. One of the servants scampered out, as soon as they marched in, and Ingrid slammed the door shut behind them.

"What do you think you're playing at, Sylvain?!" She shouted. Sylvain put up both hands, trying to ward himself against any punches she might decide to throw in his direction. "Did you seriously tell your father we were engaged?!"

"I was _trying_ to tell my father that _Felix_ and I were engaged, but you know what he's like! He only hears what he wants to! And as soon as I started talking about, you know, how I've had a crush on Felix since we were kids... I don't know, I guess he thought I meant you? And I tried to correct him, I did! But he sounded so... _relieved,_ you know, that I'd found a noble woman to carry on the family name, and I... I didn't know how to tell him I _hadn't..."_

"Wow, excellent job coming out to your father!" She started pacing nervously.

"He said he was proud of me! Ingrid, he's _never_ said that before!"

"Since when do you care what people think of you?!"

"Since... ten minutes ago, apparently!"

Ingrid stopped pacing and turned towards him, hands on her hips.

"What makes you so sure he won't be proud of you, once he finds out you're engaged to Felix? He's the son of a Duke!"

"I just... do. You know what he's like, you've met him! He wants grandchildren. I'm his last hope." Sylvain hid his face in his hands.

"When has it ever been _your_ responsibility to give him grandchildren? You don't owe him anything! You didn't ask to be born!"

There was a knock on the door. Ingrid went to answer it. Ash and Felix were waiting outside.

"What's going on?" Felix asked. Ingrid opened her mouth to speak. Before she could, Sylvain snapped to his feet and moved to the door, tugging Felix inside. Ashe hesitantly trailed in after, closing the door behind them, and exchanging a long look with Ingrid.

"Abort mission. We're going back to your house," Sylvain declared. Felix arched a brow.

"What do you mean, abort mission? What did he say? Did you tell him?"

"I told him... I was engaged."

"Strong start."

"I was _trying_ to tell him I was engaged to _you,"_ Sylvain insisted. "And he thought I meant Ingrid. And I didn't tell him... it _wasn't_ Ingrid."

Felix shook his head, mystified. "Wait, _what?_ Can't you just tell him the truth?"

"I _want_ to tell him the truth, but he won't listen to a word I say!" _  
_

"Sylvain. Are you going to tell him or not?" Felix asked, taking hold of Sylvain's arm, hoping to calm him down. He could feel how much his heart was racing. Maybe coming here was a bad idea. Maybe they should have waited.

"I _will_ tell him, but... I think it would be easier if you were there?" Sylvain suggests. "I don't want to freeze up again, but there were so many people around, and he wasn't _really_ listening..."

"Alright. We'll tell him together," Felix agreed. Sylvain expected him to be angry. He wasn't angry. He couldn't work out why he wasn't angry. Ingrid was _furious,_ but of course she was furious, she had to go along with this charade and pretend to be engaged to Sylvain for the rest of the night. Then he would tell him. He would get him alone and he would tell him. Between the four of them, they agreed to keep mum about Felix and Sylvain until all of the guests left, and Sylvain could tell his parents himself. Ashe slipped away to find Leonie, to get her in on the plan, too.

Before they rejoined the party, Sylvain stopped Felix. "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

"I'm not mad. I know you're scared. But I'll be there next time, okay? You don't have to be afraid of him, or _me,_ or... anything. We'll get through this together," he insisted, and for someone who was famously 'bad at words,' he knew exactly what to say to make Sylvain calm down.

Ingrid waited at the door for them, and they re-entered the party together. Felix found his way over to Leonie and Ash, who had gotten involved in a card game. Turns out, Leonie was something of a card shark. Felix offered moral support. They only briefly saw the Margrave again, that night. He noted that 'Leonie and Felix look quite sweet together,' an observation that shocked and offended them both when Sylvain relayed it. _"Don't worry, it will soon be over,"_ he promised, only... it wasn't. The party did, eventually, end, but not _all_ of the guests went home, and the Margrave was pulled into a business meeting, only briefly telling them that their rooms had been 'arranged,' before being pulled into another room to settle 'a very serious matter.'

Of course, Ingrid and Sylvain were expected to share one room. Felix and Leonie another. Ashe was offered a much smaller third, which was little more than a glorified broom cupboard. Sylvain _promised_ to clear everything up, he just had to find his mother. Easier said than done. She gave him a pat on the cheek, said her father told her the good news, and she hoped they would be 'comfortable.' They would have plenty of time to talk in the morning. Ingrid grabbed an armful of pillows and blankets and marched directly into Felix and Leonie's room, then shoved Felix out. He turned up, looking like a stray dog, outside Sylvain's door.

"Can I come in?" He asked so politely it caught Sylvain off-guard.

"We are going to have to think up a _very_ clever ruse to get you out of here before the rest of the house wakes up."

Felix huffed, marching inside and pulling the door sharply closed behind him. He discarded his weapons, then his clothes, then unceremoniously shoved Sylvain back onto the bed and clambered under the covers, on his side, stealing most, if not all, of the blankets. He always did run cold. Sylvain eventually worked his way over to Felix's side, wrapping an arm around his torso and tugging him closer.

"I have to stay warm somehow," he chided when Felix made a disgruntled noise. Sylvain knew Felix liked being the little spoon, he just resented it. "You took all the blankets."

They fell asleep fast enough. All that riding had tired them out, even before the party. But it was not an easy night. A few hours later, there was more knocking at the door. Felix refused to answer it, so Sylvain got up instead. It was probably Ingrid. He gave thanks to the fact he was still wearing trousers, as he trudged sleepily towards the door, and slung it open. A woman with long hair, that fell in ringlets over her shoulders, pressed inside, wrapping her arms around his midsection, before he could realise what was going on. He blinked a few times, before stumbling back.

"Uhm, hello! Do I know you?" He asked the woman clinging to his side. "You don't look like Ingrid." The room was still very dark, and the halls outside were only lit sparingly by one or two candles, left burning overnight.

 _"Sylvain!_ Finally, we can be together!" She exclaimed, reaching up to try and take hold of his neck and pull him down into a kiss, but he was finally awake enough to realise what was happening, and he firmly pushed her off of him.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't do that anymore. I'm, uh..." he was tongue-tied for a moment, before the glint of his ring caught his eye, and he flashed that. "I'm sure you're a very nice girl, but I'm spoken for."

Even in his most reckless womanizing days, it was still unprecedented to have woman turn up, unnannounced, at his room in the middle of the night. Maybe his reputation proceeded him.

"You don't remember me, do you?" She said, pulling back, and looking terribly offended, even in the dark.

He shook his head. "Sorry, sunshine! I meet a lot of girls. Anyway, like I said... I'm a married man, now. Off the market. No can do."

"It's me, Illona. We knew each other when we were teenagers, remember? I always thought we would be... _perfect..._ together... I had such a crush on you," She moved back, pulling the door closed behind her, a hand dancing its way up his bare chest. "Your wife doesn't have to know..."

"That's sweet, kid, uhh.. Felix? _Felix,"_ he lamented, looking back to the bed at the thing wrapped up in a nest of blankets. He stumbled a few steps back. For such a petite woman, she was surprisingly strong. _"Help! Felix! I'm being seduced!"_

"I can't hear you!" The blankets hissed. "I'm trying to sleep!" _That_ made Illona seize up. She suddenly pulled away, and tugged her nightdress closed around her shapely chest.

"Oh, goddess. You aren't alone. I'm so sorry!" She stammered out, eyes widening. Felix finally clambered out from his blanket cave and lazily grabbed his nearest sword. He never slept without at least two blades within arms reach. It was one of his more redeeming qualities.

 _"I am,"_ he said, hiking up the blanket to protect what remained of his modesty, and sounding exasperated. "Felix Hugo Frauldarius, son of Duke Rodrigue Achille Frauldarius. Please unhand my husband. I'd like to leave whatever honour he has left entact."

She made a shocked yelp at the sight of his sword and darted for the door, slipping outside. Sylvain didn't bother locking the door behind her, or even stopping to consider the sword, before falling rather lazily into Felix's arms and sending him hurtling back, heavily, against the bed.

"You weigh as much as a horse!" Felix complained, letting his sword fall to the floor with a clatter, before trying to shove the redheaded knight off of him. "I can't feel my legs!"

"You don't need your legs," Sylvain chided, nuzzling Felix's forehead. "But this time we're sharing the blanket."

Felix made a contrary noise, but let Sylvain drag the blanket back up onto the bed, and over them both.

Wrapped up, and with no more interruptions, they soon fell asleep.

* * *

Sylvain had not been home in a few years, so he had fallen out of step with the routine. He forgot a servant usually came in the morning, to wake him up, and open the windows, airing out his room. Thankfully, the servant sent was familiar enough with Sylvain's usual antics, they weren't startled to find the son of the house was not alone, and made no comment, as they bid a groggy Sylvain: _"Good morning, Sir!"_ before sauntering out again. He mumbled something back, stretching, before he remembered the sleeping swordsman who was pinning his legs down.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. The family's probably preparing a grand banquet to celebrate our impending nuptials," Sylvain said, gently lifting Felix's legs up so he could steal his own free. Felix kicking at him and grumbled, tugging the blanket over his head. Then, of course, his mother walked in, and Sylvain tugged the blanket even further up.

 _"Mother! Hello_. Hello. What are you doing here?" He asked, smiling with all his teeth and trying to bottle his anxiety. He was getting really sick of all these interruptions. The servants he could forgive. His Mother, of all people, knew better than to walk in on him without knocking. He was a grown man.

"I just wanted to say... is Ingrid okay?" She asked, noticing all the kicking.

Sylvain's smile went even wider, somehow. "Yeah, Ingrid's terrific, she's just... shy."

"Oh. Well, I wanted to tell you breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes, if you wanted to wake your friends... and I have a few spare dresses, if Ingrid and Leonie would like..."

Felix squeaked for air, and Sylvain elbowed him. "I'll be sure to tell them. _Good-bye,_ Mother," he said through gritted teeth.

"Yes. Good... good-bye, Sylvain. Ingrid. See you soon." She closed the door behind her. Sylvain folded back the blanket, to reveal a flattened and very unhappy looking Felix.

"You're really digging yourself in a hole, you know that?" He mumbled as he scrambled upright, and took in their surroundings. He noticed his sword on the floor and went to fetch it. "You don't think she noticed this, do you?" He asked, picking up his sword and inspecting the blade. Still pristine.

Sylvain shrugged. "I don't think it makes any difference. Ingrid probably sleeps with a sword, too. You two really do have a lot in common, don't you? Goddess. _What if I'm marrying the wrong best friend?!_ " He gasped out in mock surprise. Felix threw the nearest pillow at him, hitting him in the face. _"Ow! I'm sorry!_ What did you want me to do, say: 'Hello Mother! Can I introduce you to the naked man in my bed?!"

"The naked man with _incredible,_ almost _saintly_ patience, who saved your hide last night!"

"I don't think that woman was trying to kill me, Felix."

"She'd hardly be the first." Felix hid his face, but Sylvain could tell he was smirking.

"Yeah, yeah. Get dressed, I'll wake the others," Sylvain said, clambering out of bed and halfway to the door before remembering he was not dressed, either. He put a shirt on, and some socks.

It turns out Leonie, Ingrid, and Ashe, had a fun sleepover. They had sent Leonie to pop her head out when they heard the commotion last night, and she reported back that a half-naked woman paid Sylvain a visit, and tried to jump him. Sylvain had heroically chased her away.

"That was all Felix, actually," Sylvain corrected, face in his hands. "Look, I am a different man now! I've reformed!" He exclaimed, haughtily, to all the glares and tittering he received from the others. "I don't sleep with random women! She just... didn't get the memo, I guess," he said with a shrug. Ingrid gave him a concillatory pat on the back. Then he lifted his head with a jerk. "Wait, what stopped you guys from intervening?"

The three conspirators went quiet, exchanged a few looks. "We, uhh. We thought it would be funny," Leonie admitted.

"To be fair, it was!" Ingrid shot back.

"I _wanted_ to step in, but then I remembered all the times you tried to hide from angry women in my room and I thought..."

"Poetic justice," Ingrid interrupted Ashe, and he shrugged his shoulders.

 _"Traitors, all of you!"_ Sylvain cried, melodramatic.

"So where's this breakfast you promised?"

"Downstairs. Oh, Leonie, Ingrid... mother's got some spare dresses, if either of you..."

"Are they wedding dresses?" Ingrid asked, slanting her eyes into thin slits. Sylvain shook his head, putting his hands up.

"Perfectly normal dresses! Promise! I'll go ask one of the servants to bring them up, and you can take a look."

He opened the door, flagged over the nearest, and instructed them to do just that, before popping back in.

Felix joined after him, so they they were all together, finally.

"So... Ingrid and Ashe filled me in. What's the Game Plan?" Leonie asked. "How are you going to tell your parents you're getting hitched?"

"Oh, uhh..." Sylvain looked between them, searching all the staring faces now turned his way, feeling quite helpless, before lighting on Felix's. "What do you think I should do?"

"I think you should tell your mother first," he suggested, crossing his arms. "If she's okay with it, she might be able to help you break the news to your father."

Sylvain slumps down on the bed. "Can I admit something?" He says in a squeaky voice. Ingrid, who's already the closest to him, moves a little closer, and gives him a pat on the back.

"Of course you can! We're here for you!"

"It's not about... the money. It's not even about being Margrave. I know my family isn't perfect, but... I _like_ having one. I like my mother. She's not the best mother in the world, I know, but... she's _mine,_ and... I don't want to lose her, too."

"Sylvain... you aren't going to lose your mother! Even if you _were_ disinherited..." Leonie started.

"Which you won't be!" Ingrid chipped in. Sylvain whimpered, slumping against her shoulder. She held him upright. It wasn't easy; he was all muscle. There was a knock at the door. Some servants entered, with dresses. Leonie took them, thanked them, and sent them on their way.

"Come on, Ingrid. Show me how to dress up like a noblewoman," she called, extending a hand, which Ingrid took, and the two girls retreated to Ashe's now empty room to change, leaving the three boys alone.

"We'd better go downstairs. Sylvain, are you okay? Do you need some time?" Ashe asked. Sylvain bit his lip and shook his head, drawing himself up to full height.

"N-no, I'm... great," he muttered. His eyes had gone a bit red.

Felix walked over, took up his hand. "I'll be right there with you, okay?"

They headed downstairs, and told their mother that the girls were getting ready, and would follow shortly.

Breakfast was already set out, with places set for each of them. Felix sat next to Sylvain, and held his hand firmly under the table.

Ten minutes pass of awkwardly moving food around their plates, and the Margrave still hasn't arrive, and the girls _still_ haven't come downstairs.

"How long can it take to put on a dress?" Felix complains, when the silence stretches a little too long. Sylvain's mother laughs.

"I can tell you're not married! A lady takes her time. Don't worry, I'm sure your girls won't keep you waiting long."

Felix stifled the urge to roll his eyes. Sylvain squeezed his hand, sympathetically, under the table.

"Mother, there's something I need to tell you..." he starts, turning towards her.

She whirls her sugar spoon in a cup of tea, and lifts her chin.

"Yes, Sylvain?" She asks, just as his father walks in.

"I was thinking about what I wanted to do after the war..."

"I'm glad you've put _some_ thought into it!" The Margrave tuts. "Have you considered my offer?"

"I have, but on our way here we stopped by Felix's home, and... the Duke made an interesting proposal, too... I think I can still do some good work, for the Kingdom."

"You can do good work here. We need someone to defend our borders, and I'm not as young as I used to be. Don't you think it's about time you came back home? If you're worried about Ingrid..."

"I'm _not_ worried about Ingrid, trust me. Ingrid can take care of herself. She also intends to serve the King, as a Knight..."

"I'm not sure it's smart, Ingrid remaining a Knight for his Majesty... I mean, who will look after the children? What if she gets hurt?!"

"What... children? There's no children, there's not going to be any children, that's what I'm... leading up to..."

"Oh, son, I'm so sorry!" His mother laments, before he can continue. "If Ingrid's unable to have children, I am sure you could adopt, there are other ways..."

 _"Can we please stop talking about Ingrid?!"_ Sylvain snapped, right as Ingrid and Leonie appeared in the doorway of the dining room. They both looked a little shocked, but they both plastered on a smile when all eyes turned on them. They looked beautiful. Leonie had chosen an orange dress, because of course she did, and Ingrid, a mint green one, with floral lining and a gauze film over the long, flowing skirt.

"...Did we come at a bad time?" Leonie asked, lightly touching Ingrid's arm and guiding her to the free chairs, opposite Felix and Sylvain, and beside Ashe.

"Forgive my son, he seems to have forgotten his manners. I think it's perfectly splendid you are going to serve his majesty as a Knight. I think a modern woman _should—"_

"You're an _incredible_ knight, Ingrid! The best we have. I am just trying to tell my parents that I wanted to work with the Duke, and all they care about is my future progeny."

"Oh," Ingrid mumbled, clamping her mouth shut as she took a seat, and surveyed her breakfast. She trained her focus on that, and left the conversation to the others.

Mrs Gautier continued, "I told him, I don't _care_ if he adopts—" 

_"I do!_ How will he pass down his Crest that way?" The Magrave snapped, from the opposite end of the table. Sylvain buried his face in his hands.

Felix lightly massaged the side of his arm, trying to comfort him silently, but it was still too much. Sylvain pulled free his arm, but it was too late. Everyone had seen Felix reach for Sylvain's arm. It was a small gesture, but still... it was _Felix._ Even 'small gestures' were out of character for him. It drew his mother's attention.

"Are you engaged, too, Felix?" She asked, indicating the hand he'd just raised. "I just noticed your ring."

Felix immediately moved his ringed hand back under the table. "It's, uhh..." his eyes darted back from Sylvain's mother to Sylvain, searching them. _"Yes."_

"He's engaged to me," Sylvain supplied. "That's... what I was trying to tell you yesterday. We got engaged. We're getting married. I wanted to invite you both, but..."

"Is this some kind of joke?" The Margrave asked, still leaning over his breakfast, both elbows on the table. "You're joking, right? You're engaged to Ingrid! And your friend there is engaged to Leonie. I don't know about that one..." he gestured towards Ashe, "but I've never heard of men marrying other men in Faerghus. Maybe in Adrestia..."

"Father. I'm marrying Felix. He's the one I'm in love with. He's the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. It's... just... him." He pulled up their joined hands, from underneath the table. Felix grimaced. He felt like he should say _something,_ but he wasn't sure what he _could_ say. He wasn't afraid of the Margrave, but he was afraid of making this worse for Sylvain, if he lost his temper. He wanted to follow his lead.

"You can't be serious. I won't allow it. He's the Duke's son, he has a Crest of his own to worry about. I expected this sort of behaviour from Miklan, but not _you!_ "

"I'm not asking for your permission," Sylvain said, standing up. Felix stood up, too. So did the Margrave. "I already have the Duke, and King's, blessing."

"Sit down, honey, please, you're overreacting..." Mrs Gautier piped up, but her husband ignored her. "We should be happy for them!"

"You are the heir to the Gautier line! You can't throw you entire future away over some... some... _mercenary!_ "

"He fought heroically alongside the King to defend _our_ land; _our_ people. He's not just 'some mercenary,'" Sylvain baulked.

"I should have known that boy would be the ruin of you." Margrave Gautier sighed heavily, raising a hand to his temples. "What will it take to show you that you've chosen the wrong path? A Crest is a rare thing, a gift from the Goddess—why waste it?"

"How have I wasted it?!" Sylvain asked. Felix tightened his hold on Sylvain's hand, kept it pinned to his side, between them. "I fought for you! I risked my life in battle, again and again! Now all I ask is to spend my life with the one person who really matters to me..."

"Sylvain... maybe we should go," Felix interrupted, feeling Sylvain's tension rising. He really did not want to see the two of them come to blows over _this._ "He's not worth it. I'm sorry I suggested we come here. It was clearly a mistake."

Sylvain huffed. "I guess it was. I'm sorry you all had to see this..." he started marching towards the door, dragging Felix after him. He briefly stopped at the door. "The wedding is in two weeks. For what it's worth, you're invited."

With that, they left. After a moment of stunned silence, Ingrid, Leonie, and Ashe got up, and followed them upstairs. Sylvain was packing, and furious. Felix tried to help, but he was not entirely sure how to help, when Sylvain was like this. He so rarely saw him angry. Ingrid led Ashe and Leonie to the next room, and they started packing their things, giving the two some privacy. It wasn't long before there was a knock at their door. Felix lifted his head. The door was already being held open.

"May I speak to my son?" Mrs Gautier asked. Sylvain kept packing.

"Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of him," he snapped, shoveling as many of his clothes and books as he could into an open bag. There weren't a lot of things left in that house he'd miss, if he never came back.

She cleared her throat, still standing in the doorway. She didn't dare move any closer. "Love is rare, in times like these. That you two should find each other, and stay together, despite long years of war, and turmoil... is a good sign. Take good care of my son, Felix."

She turned to leave. Sylvain was already back on his feet. "Wait! Thank you, Mother." She stopped, frozen where she stood. He walked over to embrace her. "I love you."

She nodded. "I love you, too." As he pulled away, she said: "Your father will need... time. But I will talk to him. I'm sure, once the surprise wears off... he will be more reasonable. He just... had an awful lot of plans for you."

"Maybe if he had ever taken the time to get to know me, we could have made those plans together," Sylvain laments. Felix moved to his feet, and forward, so that he is standing beside him. "If you want to come to the wedding... the offer still stands," Sylvain added.

She gave a nod and a soft smile. "I will try." She placed a delicate hand on either of their shoulders. "Be happy, my boys. Take care."

With that, she left them, as elegantly as she did everything. She was an elegant woman. Sylvain shook his head, went back to packing with Felix's help. They were soon finished, and out the door, and on their horses, and heading back to House Frauldarius. 

☆☆☆

The wedding ceremony was held two weeks later. Marianne had performed some kind of miracle, and coaxed Felix into wearing flowers in his hair, which complimented his formal blue uniform. Sylvain wore black, because... well, he liked wearing black, and it was Gautier colours, and for all intensive purposes... he was still a Gautier. His mother was there. So was the young King and his entourage. He could not go anywhere, now, without an entourage. Dedue was glued to his side, until Ashe evenetually managed to lure him away, and asked him to help prepare the dinner banquet. Mercedes baked a beautiful, three-tier cake for them, with a recipe penned by Lysithea herself, which was _sweet,_ without being too sweet. Ingrid, Leonie, and Annette helped sort out the music and decorations. Sylvain suggested dragon fruit flowers be incorporated somehow, and they... tried. Felix appreciated the gesture. He may have pretended to be above such things, but he was, at heart, rather sentimental; a weakness Sylvain liked to exploit. Linhardt and Dmitri were... present, while all this was going on, but no one trusted Dmitri not to break something by accident, and Linhardt usually found a way to way to worm out of anything remotely resembling work, but... they were present. Marianne spent an awful lot of time, while these preparations were going on, in the stables, looking after Sylvain's horse, who she missed greatly, now that she and Hilda lived so far away she rarely got a chance to visit her favourite horse. Sylvain thanked her afterward for keeping an eye on Belle. 

Rodrigue oversaw everything, and involved himself in everything. He wanted the wedding to be perfect. It became very evident, to Sylvain, that his involvement in the wedding was a laurel branch. He wanted to make peace with his son, and fix their relationship. He knew he was getting older, and might not have all the time in the world to repair what was fractured so long ago. Felix assumed Rodrigue had an ulterior motive, before he presented Felix with an Aegis Shield as a wedding gift.

"You don't _have_ to use it," Rodrigue added, as he handed him the shield. The minute his hand touched it, his Crest activated, and his eyes went wide. "I just think... you should have it. You can choose to do with it what you like, whether its defending the Kingdom, or... defending some border town, as a mercenary. I know you will use it wisely, to defend others."

And Felix took the shield and said: "Thank you, Father." He actually said _'father,'_ Sylvain was sure of it, he made a mental note. It was the first time Sylvain had heard him call him that since he was 15. There were tears in his eyes. He had told Sylvain about the shield. He said he didn't want it, that it didn't matter, that it should have gone to Glenn, anyway. He didn't want to be the King's Shield. Dmitri could defend himself. If the day came when he couldn't... well, he had Dedue and Ingrid at his side. He didn't need him. But he was so happy, once he actually had Aegis in hand.

If Felix could work things out with Dmitri... maybe he could work things out with his father, too. Sylvain wanted to see the two reconciled. He knew Rodrigue was trying very hard, now, to understand him. They still argued all the time about politics and military tactics, but they were _trying_ to understand one another's points of view, and Sylvain was glad. If it had happened a few years ago... he might have been jealous, he might have even resented him, for repairing things with his father when he couldn't repair things with his own, but... he didn't care anymore. _This_ was his family, he thought, when he woke up the morning before his wedding, and went down to breakfast, and found all of his friends there waiting for him, and he could sit down next to Felix, who pushed a hot cup of tea in his hand and gave him a lazy kiss. 

His father had grown up in a corrupt system of Crests and power politics, where people would stop at nothing to get their hands on one, a system they were actively trying to dismantle. That was their goal now, and the goal of their friends, now that they were finally in the position to make a difference. They were so lucky, just to have made it this far, to have survived a war.

So he was happy for Felix, because he loved Felix, and wanted him to know how much he was loved by all their friends, by his father, by everyone who knew him, the real him, the side he hides behind all those barbs and sharp teeth. He wanted Felix to see he didn't have to be a lone wolf all his life, he didn't have to run away for five years and fend for himself in the wilderness just to _prove_ how strong he was. He didn't have to prove anything to anyone.

All the rehearsing had paid off. They said their lines, exchanged cups and rings while their friends and family looked on. They kissed. Then the music started, and they had their first dance. Sylvain had waited so long to dance with Felix. He had wanted to, so many times, before they got together. Not just at the Ball, but that night often stayed in his thoughts. Felix looked so handsome, so striking, all dressed up... and he was barely there. Who was it all for? He left as abruptly as he arrived. But Sylvain still got to see him, in the Goddess Tower, and steal him away. As he took Felix's hand in his, and drew him closer, he learned, to his surprise, that Felix was a natural. They glided seamlessly in step with the music. It felt like walking on air.

"So you _do_ know how to dance," Sylvain observed. "Since when?"

Felix smirked. "Yuri taught me."

"Should I be jealous?"

He spun Felix around, easily enough, drew him back.

"Probably," Felix hummed, as he moved closer, slowing with the music.

"Why did you go to the Goddess Tower that night? Did you know I would follow you?"

Felix turned his head, looking away, even as he leaned in closer to Sylvain, leaning against his shoulder. It was an act of trust. As much as Sylvain loved him, he didn't think he deserved it. He didn't think he deserved any of this. He looked so handsome, almond eyes ringed with kohl, flowers in his hair, and his immaculate uniform. He was practically shining.

"I never seriously thought you would follow me. You were dancing with Dorothea," he replied, voice growing as honeyed and laconic as the music. As their movements slowed, so did his heartbeat, ringing in his ears.

Sylvain wondered if Felix could fall asleep like this, leaning against him, as they danced hand in hand, forgetting everyone else in the room. The night was already perfect. It was everything he could have asked for and more. But he couldn't make that tiny voice in the back of his head shut up, that kept telling him: _'enjoy this while it lasts!'_ Because he knew it would. He would keep their promise, if it was the last thing he did.

"The entire time I was dancing with Dorothea, all I could think of was how much I wanted to dance with you. Didn't you see me staring?"

Felix tightened his hold on Sylvain's hand. "Okay, maybe I was hoping you _would_ follow me. Maybe I wanted you to."

"Felix Hugo Frauldarius, were you planning to seduce me?!" Sylvain gasped in shock.

"No. But I wrote you a letter. I'm so glad you never saw that letter. I threw it in the lake, before we dove in."

"What did it say? _Get out of my Monastery?"_ Sylvain joked. Suddenly Felix lifted his head and slid back a step, drawing out his hand, and stopping him. He tilted his head to one side and held his gaze for a long moment, but his expression was difficult to read.

"How much I wanted to do this," he said, before leaning in to kiss him, taking his face in hand, with both hands. Sylvain's hands fell to his waist, to steady himself. It wasn't the chaste kiss he'd reluctantly given in front of all their friends and family. If anyone was looking, now... he'd stopped caring.

Sylvain smiled into the kiss, chased it when Felix started to pull away, greedy for more. He ran a hand through Felix's long, silky hair. It was even softer than usual. He probably had Mercedes to thank for that. She'd done an incredible job. They all had. The Estate looked beautiful, done up with lights, and paper stars, and blue flowers, far as the eye can see. Even the music was nice. Sylvain didn't know the first thing about music, but he liked any song, that ended like this, with Felix in his arms.

Their dance was interrupted by a chorus of cheers, as rice was thrown and champagne was opened and Ingrid, Marianne, and Leonie trotted over, to drag them towards the cake, Ingrid brandishing Felix with a weapon and everyone stepping back as he carved the first slice, and gave it to Sylvain. After cake, champagne, and a fine banquet were scoffed, the guests started passing out, or going home, one by one, until eventually, everyone retreated to their rooms, or the stables, or fell asleep on sofas and chairs, contentedly, and it was Felix who took a sleepy Sylvain in hand and led him upstairs. He offered to carry him. Sylvain nearly accepted, but as strong as Felix was, his anxiety got the better of him, and he decided not to chance it. But they walked up the stairs, hand in hand.

Felix had been quiet before the ceremony, but he was even quieter after. Sylvain dusted off his suit, and plucked rice from his hair. "Cat got your tongue?" He asked, once they were alone.

"No. I just... don't know what to say," he admitted. It felt strange to be surrounded by all their friend's smiling faces, and a cheering crowd. His father, beaming with pride. Sylvain there, every step of the way. In perfect harmony. Even the ceremony, drinking from one another's chalice, reciting their lines. None of it felt real. But he felt a lightness in his chest he didn't know what to do with. He looked, searchingly, into Sylvain's eyes, as if he might find the answer there, but Sylvain looked just as clueless as he felt.

"What's wrong?" Sylvain asked, nudging him with his shoulder. "Having second thoughts? Want to get an annulment already?"

"No, I just... never thought I could feel so happy," he admitted softly.

Sylvain choked back laughter, for the sake of Felix's pride.

"Yeah. Yeah, I feel you." He leaned over and kissed Felix's brow, tugging him closer.

"I wish Glenn could have been here," he added quietly. Sylvain nodded, but said nothing, because he knew nothing he said could make up for that, for losing his brother, for losing so much. Felix held back a tear, and Sylvain kissed his nose.

"But it was nice, having our friends..." Sylvain took hold of the side of Felix's face, angling it towards him, so he could kiss his mouth.

"It was nice," Sylvain echoed as he pulled away. "Can't we just... enjoy this moment, without feeling guilty, for five seconds?"

"For five seconds, yeah," Felix relented, climbing into Sylvain's lap and placing a hand on his chest, before leaning into another kiss.

Sylvain wrapped him in his arms, tugged him closer. "I could get used to this."

"You better, you're a Frauldarius, now."

"All yours," he murmurred.

"All mine."

"I feel happy, too," he said, smile flitting over his features as he pressed their forehead's together.

And for once, Felix smiled back, opening his eyes. "You look happy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please ignore how incredibly late this chapter was! But thank you for reading this far, if you have!  
> I love these two, and thought they deserved a soft epilogue.


End file.
